


I Can Barely Say

by wordslinger



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen, Havocai, Multiple Pairings, Rare Pairings, Royai - Freeform, Roybecca, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-07 00:21:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 57,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3153815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordslinger/pseuds/wordslinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things are changing for Roy Mustang, and dreams that once seemed so strong to young eyes often bend under the weight of age.</p><p>**Modern-ish high school AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rating, tags, and warnings are for teenage shenanigans.
> 
> A note on canon character first names, and surnames: Not everyone has both in the manga or anime. I've taken the liberty of adding these names when I needed to. For example General Hakuro in canon doesn't have a first name listed in the FMA wiki, so I stole the first name of one of his voice actors. I've adopted the practice for anyone with a single name.
> 
> Fic writing is a labor of love, and hearing from readers makes my whole day.
> 
> Update 4/8/15: Tada! I've acquired a beta. No plot changes just a general polishing and cleaning up of my terrible comma-speak.

            Headmaster King Bradley hated his job. He’d been walking the halls of Central Amestris Academy for nearly thirty years, and every day he crossed off another square on his calendar until his retirement with a begrudging sigh. He wasn’t sure why he stayed on; his wife served him breakfast with a smile in the morning, and reminded him how much he’d enjoy the quieter life. Tenure was long behind him, and he certainly felt no affection for the students. Perhaps he simply hated the idea of that sentimental fool of a board member, Grumman, taking his place. Children in their teenage years needed discipline and a heavy hand. They couldn’t be allowed to run around with their hormones flying about.

            He sucked in a deep breath as he strode the nearly-empty corridors. The only students present at such an early hour were the over-achievers. He detested them as much as the slackers. Bradley often imagined he could actually smell their desperate endeavors like a cloying perfume. Extra effort could be expected from scholarship students such as Kain Furey, whose mother was nothing but a waitress, or Denny Brosch, who’d won his way in the prestigious doors with athletic prowess. But they weren’t worth much. Not really.

            It was the handful of students like the three Armstrong children, the youngest Hughes boy, and the Hawkeye girl that stood out. Now _there_ was pedigree. Proven bloodlines and old money were what impressed Bradley. These were the cream of his crop, and he kept a closer eye on them than most. The Armstrong family had a glittering military history. They were strong, and displayed leadership in every activity they participated in. Especially Olivier. Maes Hughes was frighteningly smart, and a promising future was expected from his senator father. Riza Hawkeye’s family dwindled in numbers, but Berthold Hawkeye’s brilliance in chemical advances was well known. Bradley congratulated himself for securing the man’s employ upon his rather explosive exit from the university’s research department.

            The realization that the Hawkeyes were related, by an unfortunate marriage, to the Grummans didn’t come until years later. Bradley still told himself he didn’t regret bringing Berthold on staff. The man may have been a bit eccentric, but he commanded his students’ attention unlike any other teacher.

            Bradley didn’t care much about the students that fell in between the bottom rung and the upper echelon. They’d earn their education and go on to mundane lives. Their tuition simply served to keep the academy running so their betters could prepare for greatness. He saw families like the Havocs, whose new money had been obtained by peddling cars, as a regrettable necessity.

            As his thoughts lingered on the mundane, he spotted one such student rushing down the hallway. Bradley’s lip curled into a sneer. The boy was unmistakable in his intentionally cavalier way of wearing the academy’s uniform. Roy Mustang was exactly the kind of student he’d like to toss out on his ear. Orphaned at the age of seven, he was currently in the care of his aunt. King Bradley _hated_ Chris Mustang. She was opinionated, aggressive, invasive, _shamelessly unmarried_ , and embodied everything else he found distasteful in a woman. Her rakish attitude seemed to have worn off on her nephew, because, despite not being a child of her body, he was exactly like her. Bradley did not even deign himself to try and understand the boy’s popularity.

            Two more years until the Mustang boy would be out of his hair and falling into the gutters his luckily-wealthy aunt seemed to revel in. _Restaurateur indeed_.

* * *

 

            Roy Mustang ducked into the boys’ bathroom when he spotted the Headmaster giving him the sharp eyeball Bradley was famous for. The last thing he needed was a lecture on tucking in his button-up shirt only half way. He was in a hurry and wanted to make it to Doctor Hawkeye’s classroom before anyone else. Mostly because he wanted to discuss the completely unpredicted chemical reaction he’d achieved during the previous night’s homework, and secondly because he hoped to snag Riza for breakfast before her obnoxious boyfriend showed up. His dislike of Jean Havoc was only rivaled by his hatred of Headmaster Bradley.

            It wasn’t jealousy. It _wasn’t._ Riza was his closest friend, and since she’d started dating that giant oaf, her free time was limited. He still saw her when they spent time with their larger group of friends, but it wasn’t the same. She was more secretive now and preferred to share her evenings with Jean. Roy remembered a time when he’d had dinner at the Hawkeye house several times a week.

         Their friendship had been based on a mutual understanding of loss. Perhaps a little less so on his side, but he couldn’t help reaching out to the girl who cried behind the trees in the school yard after her mother died. They’d both been nine when he first stumbled over her legs and bit back a haughty reply in the face of her tears. His own mother’s memory was already hazy, but he understood losing a parent. At first, it became a simple mission to earn a smile from the sad little girl. He brought her dandelion flowers and lemon cakes, though the latter were usually a bit squished from their carrying place in his pocket. In the end, it was a joke about the way he always tripped over neglected shoelaces that earned him a laugh. The sound was beautiful.

            Her dry sense of humor grew on him, and when loud-mouthed Basque Grand teased him _again_ for having a whore-monger for an aunt, Riza shocked everyone in the yard by kicking the much larger boy with a sharply aimed blow. After that, no one made fun of Roy Mustang. Ever. In fact, it seemed they’d taken the head off the snake and were both accepted into what would later become a close group of friends.

            Doctor Hawkeye’s classroom reminded Roy very much of what a mad scientist’s basement might look like. The walls were lined with shelving units he’d had installed years ago, and the contents seemed to be reproducing at an alarming rate. His private office was always locked.

            “Ah, Roy, good morning. I hadn’t noticed it was so late. I should probably prepare for class. What can I do for you?” Doctor Hawkeye glanced up at him from a lab table strewn with equipment and books.

            “I, uh,” Roy surveyed the room and caught Riza winking at him from a desk in the corner. He grinned. “I may have set my desk on fire last night.”

            Hawkeye looked at him fully. “Well, I’m happy to see you didn’t perish in the flames and have a full head of hair. What do you think you did wrong?”

            Roy produced his notes and tried very hard to keep his attention on his teacher instead of the way Riza twirled a strand of hair around her index finger. A quiet chuckle drew his eyes back to Doctor Hawkeye. “Why don’t you and my daughter head down for some breakfast? I’d hate for you to start your day on an empty stomach. I made some notes in your book, here. Have a look before we meet for class.”

            “Thank you, sir. My aunt is grateful.” Roy turned to Riza, who was stuffing books into her bag. “Wanna go eat?”

            “Yeah, let’s go. I’ve got to be out on the archery field in a half hour though.” She followed him out into the hallway.

            “Still kicking everyone’s ass from seventy yards?”

            Riza elbowed him lightly. “I can’t help it if I’m the best. Maybe if you weren’t stuck in your books all the time, you’d come see me. There’s a tournament this weekend.”

            “I kind of figured you had enough support on the sidelines.” Roy kept his eyes ahead. He knew he was being unfair.

            “I wish-” Riza sighed quietly. “I wish you guys would just get along.”

            Roy felt like she’d punched him in the gut. He didn’t mean to be a jerk around Havoc. The guy just grated on his nerves. He gently wrapped his hand around her elbow. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s my fault.”

            Riza raised an eyebrow.

            “I’ve been on edge for a while, and it’s making things worse. I’ll… I’ll try harder to like your boyfriend, and I’ll come on Saturday. Okay?”

            She placed her hand over his. “Thanks, Roy. You don’t have to like him. Just don’t pick any fights. That’s all I ask.” She smiled. “My stomach is demanding food; let’s get downstairs. If I’m late outside, Coach Curtis will have my head.”

            His grin was a permanent fixture until she left him for her archery period. He told himself he’d make peace with Havoc. He wasn’t jealous. Roy had lots of female attention, definitely more than Jean, and there was no reason for him to be bitter. As of late, most of the attention came from a single source; without meaning to, Roy found himself in a steady relationship, and enjoyed her easy companionship so much he made efforts to keep her close. He spotted the girlfriend in question a second before she glued herself to his side.

            “Hey, babe,” he mumbled and pressed his lips to her temple.

            “Hey, I missed you this morning in the courtyard!” Rebecca said with a smile. “We’re going to the dam this weekend. Heymans got some booze, and it’ll be fun!”

            “As long as it’s not Saturday. I told Riza I’d go to her tournament.”

            Rebecca Catalina had known Riza only a little longer than he had. They weren’t especially close, but Riza didn’t have anyone that knew her better than Roy. His girlfriend, like everyone else in their circle, hadn’t missed the hostility that crackled in the air when Roy and Jean Havoc were in one another’s company.

            “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You know Jean will be there, right?”

            “She wanted me to come, so I’m going. Havoc can fuck off.”

            “Roy, I know you and Riza are close, and I know you don’t like him, but if you think she’ll pick you over him-"

            I don’t want to talk about this, Bec. Okay? I can handle Havoc. I told her I’d be there, and that I’d try to get along with him.”

            Rebecca stared at him for a long minute. “I’m coming, too. You need a babysitter.”

            Roy laughed and tugged her closer. “Maybe.”

            He was happy with Rebecca. He _wasn’t_ jealous.


	2. Chapter 2

            Early autumn was Izumi Curtis’s favorite season. The heat wasn’t too overwhelming, and the brutal cold of winter hadn’t quite settled in yet. She felt her students did their best during this time of year and that they were most comfortable outdoors. Izumi assisted with two athletic departments in the fall, and both were practiced in the different fields behind Central Amestris Academy. While she enjoyed her position, and the kids she worked with, by far, the best aspect of athletics was her ability to completely avoid Headmaster Bradley for days at a time. She could arrive in the mornings to finish up her grading spreadsheets and various packets of paperwork and be out at the archery range before the insufferable headmaster was known to stalk the hallways. Afternoons were more difficult, but they seemed to be perfectly content avoiding one another.

            She scanned the booklet containing the tournament schedule one last time before turning her attention to the four students who would be competing. There were actually ten members of this department, but frankly, the majority couldn’t hit a target if their lives depended on it. Teaching them to properly hold and successfully fire was enough to make her head ache fiercely.

            Riza Hawkeye was her most apt pupil. Her focus was intense and her aim terrifyingly accurate. Izumi often wondered about Riza’s thoughts when she shut the world out and kept her gaze down range. Despite her smaller size, which sometimes earned snickers from anyone who didn’t know better, young Miss Hawkeye’s skills were unmatched. Riza’s only weakness was that damn shoulder of hers. All it took was a split second of divided attention during her brief foray into grappling to dislodge it and inflict lingering inflammation. Archery may not have been the cause of the injury, but her refusal to give it up certainly didn’t help any.

            The weekend tournament was in an unfamiliar location, but Izumi was confident. Her biggest concern at the moment was keeping the morning sprinters from collecting like lint in a trap along the fence behind the firing line. Track and field wasn’t her jurisdiction, but the runners were fascinated all the same. She hated policing them and often complained to Hakuro about their ogling. Usually his response was something along the lines of, _If they aren’t on your range, then it shouldn’t bother you._ But it _did_ bother her. Coach Hakuro was an ass, in her opinion, and liked to lord his few extra years of seniority over her whenever he saw an opportunity.

            Two of the runners seemed to stop and watch more often than any of the others. Izumi couldn’t always hear their discussions, but body language alone implied they were not friends. The taller of the two she recognized as Riza’s constantly-grinning boyfriend. His name usually escaped her, but ultimately, it was irrelevant. She didn’t think he’d be on the team for long if that disgusting smoking habit of his continued. He’d burn out his lungs by the time he was thirty. The darker haired boy Izumi knew as Roy Mustang. His aunt had a standing contract with her husband’s butcher shop. She owned several establishments around Central City and served a lavish dinner hour. Rumor had it her menu wasn’t limited to just alcohol and food, but _that_ was none of Izumi’s business.

            The boys stood several yards apart and rarely spoke to one another, even if they both had eyes only for Riza. The girl never acknowledged their presence and didn’t actually even seem to notice they were there. Her eyes single-mindedly focused down range, and Izumi wondered if that was for the best.

* * *

 

            Roy’s skin crawled. He hated the way Havoc stood at the fence separating the running tracks from the archery range watching Riza. It wasn’t a daily occurrence, but he caught him at it more often than he felt was strictly necessary. Didn’t the asshole get enough time with her already? Did he have to stare so openly? His fingers itched to curl into a fist and clock Havoc in the teeth. Before he could make good on his fantasies, a hand landed on his shoulder.

            “Hey! You’re wasting away over here!” Maes Hughes was his closest friend other than Riza. They’d started out as rivals on the field, locked in a constant battle to one-up each other, but eventually bonded in a mutual dislike of Coach Hakuro. He’d made them run laps in the rain after one particularly disruptive squabble, and it was enough to forge a friendship.

            With one final dirty glare at Havoc, who wouldn’t tear his eyes from his girlfriend long enough to see it, Roy jogged behind Hughes back to the track.

            “Why do you do that?” Hughes asked in his naturally nonchalant way.

            “Do what?”

            Hughes laughed. “You _know_ what. If looks could kill, Havoc would be a smoking pile of ash back there. Why do you hate him so much?”

            Roy ground his teeth and tried to think about something else. _Anything_ else. “I just do.”

            “You two were hardly winning any brotherly love awards before he started dating Riza, but now no one wants to be around either of you at the same time. Doesn’t that bother you?”

            “I don’t care.”

            “Does he treat her bad or something?” One of Maes’ more annoying qualities was the ability to suck a person into an interrogation before they saw it coming.

            “No,” Roy mumbled petulantly. _Damn you, Hughes. Just leave it alone_.

            “Do you have a _thing_ for Riza then? I doubt Becky would like that very much-"

            “ _Damn it_ , Hughes, give it a rest! _No,_ I don’t have a _thing_ for Riza! She’s like my sister, _okay?_ I just think she can do better than fucking Havoc.” Roy hated saying that. Riza _wasn’t_ his sister.

            “Ah, so it’s that she’s fucking him, then? That’s what’s got your panties in a twist?”

            “Hughes, I swear to god. _Leave it alone_.”

            “I’ll leave it alone when you leave it alone.” They rounded a curve of the track and broke off onto a dirt trail that circled the Academy grounds. “You coming to the dam Saturday night? I hear Breda got his hands on some good stuff, and I bet if Kimblee gets drunk enough, he’ll light some of those fireworks we all know he smuggled back from summer vacation in Xing.”

            “Yeah, I guess. Bec wants to, and she’s insisting on babysitting me at Riza’s tournament.”

            Hughes laughed breathlessly. “Ha! She knows you well enough.”

            They completed the rest of their run in silence. With every exhale, Roy tried to cleanse his mind of the thought of Riza having _any_ kind of sex with Havoc.

            Roy was embarrassed to admit he’d only been to a handful of Riza’s archery tournaments since she’d been competing. Their first year at the academy, she attended all his track and field events, and he absolutely hated that the act of cheering him on had resulted in her meeting Havoc. Now she showed up for both of them, and Roy despised sharing her with him. In the most selfish part of his teenage heart, he could admit he may have been punishing her a little for having a boyfriend he disliked so keenly by not showing up at her tournaments, but he just let her believe it was because of Havoc. The admission of gross self-centeredness didn’t disgust Roy any less, but there it was.

            He didn’t understand a damn thing about archery, but he wanted Riza to be successful at it and to see that her interests were important to him, despite his absences. Not that his presence had anything to do with her skills. Her wall of ribbons and case of trophies proved it didn’t, but he hoped she knew he cared just as much as she did. Havoc got in the way of all that. It occurred to him that his casual habit of promiscuity may have upset her in the past, though, she’d never said anything. It also occurred to him how sexist he was acting by allowing her relationship to bother him at all. It wasn’t jealousy, though. It _wasn’t_.

            The targets appeared small at the end of the field, and several white tents flapped in a slight breeze behind him. Rebecca chatted animatedly with Hughes and his new girlfriend Sheska. Roy’s eyes were on Riza. She stood near the middle of a line of other female archers behind a strip of red chalk, methodically adjusting her equipment. He glanced at Havoc, whose hand fumbled around his pocket periodically, laughing at whatever joke Breda had cracked. His addiction to cigarettes was most obvious when he wasn’t allowed to smoke. Roy hadn’t intended for the tournament to be a group activity, but Rebecca thought it would be a fun precursor to a night of drinking.

            A whistle blew, signifying the first flight, and Roy watched, enrapt, as Riza expertly toed the shooting line, drew the bow string, and released. Her face remained impassive, but he knew her well enough to tell she was in concentration mode. He didn’t expect a smile or a glance at her crowd of friends. Riza was nothing if not focused. She had always been that way, and Roy learned early on not to try and get between her and the object of fascination. She fluidly pulled another arrow from her quiver and nocked it. Roy couldn’t see where her arrow pierced the target, but she rarely missed her quarry.

            In the second flight, Riza’s stance lilted slightly, and her shoulder twisted at an odd angle. Roy’s eyebrows drew together, and he glanced at her coach, who was standing rigidly several feet behind her. The change in her student’s posture hadn’t gone unnoticed. She paced back and forth the entire hour, and her anxiety grated on Roy. None of his friends seemed to be paying enough attention to see any difference.  

            Riza rolled her shoulders and compulsively adjusted the position of her chest guard. Her back was to him, but the fidgeting told Roy all he needed to know. Something was wrong. When the whistle blew again, Coach Curtis was immediately at Riza’s side, probing her shoulder. He couldn’t hear anything that was being said, but Riza was emphatically shaking her head. They were having a disagreement regarding whatever was amiss.

            “What’s going on?” Rebecca’s voice in his ear startled him.

            “Hm?” He glanced at her.

            “Riza. What’s happening? She looks upset.”

            “I’m not sure. I think she’s arguing with her coach about whatever’s wrong with her shoulder. She was off balance the entire flight.”

            “It’s fine,” the voice Roy least wanted to hear spoke behind him.

            “How do you know she’s fine?” Roy bit out, only turning his head toward Havoc halfway.

            “Because, unlike you, Mustang, I’m always here on the sideline. Riza tends to get stiff this much time in. She’ll work it out in her own way.”

            “What’s wrong with her shoulder?” he asked before he could stop himself. Roy did not want to look to Havoc for inside information on Riza. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw him smirk.

            Havoc pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and, without taking his eyes off Roy, said, “I’m gonna go have a smoke. Breda, you with me?” He turned on his heel and left the group.

            Rebecca’s hand closed tightly around his arm, and Roy clenched his fist. He watched Havoc walk away and wanted nothing more than to chase after him and make good on his teeth-punching fantasy. Maes helpfully stepped into Roy’s line of sight.

            “You hungry, Roy? Wanna grab some concessions?”

            “No,” Roy hissed. “I want to beat that guy’s face in, and I want to know what’s up with Riza.”

            “Well, you can’t have either right now. So either calm the hell down, or I’ll escort you to the parking lot. Whatever’s bothering Riza doesn’t need to be exacerbated by your beef with Havoc.”

            Roy shoved his free hand into his pocket and looked at Rebecca. Her grip on his arm lessened a bit, but her eyes were pleading. He sighed and pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “I’m fine,” he said in a low voice.

            Riza battled her shoulder throughout the next flight but didn’t shoot again after that. She packed her personal equipment away in a carrying case, returned her number to the judges table, and signed herself out. Coach Curtis gently squeezed her shoulders and sent her walking towards her friends. Roy tried not to seethe as Havoc embraced her and she slumped into his arms. To her credit, she didn’t cry. Not that he’d expected her to; Riza hadn’t ever been much of a crier. She just got angry and fixed her mind more solidly on the goal.

            She pulled away from Jean and smiled at Roy. Her hand grasped his lightly. “Thanks for coming, Roy. Sorry you had to see me lose like that. Normally I can power through.”

            His expression brightened at the attention. “I’m not sorry I came. I’m just sorry your shoulder is bugging you that bad.”

            Riza grit her teeth and rolled the shoulder in question. “I need to go home and ice it.”

            “You’re coming tonight, though, right? To the dam?” Rebecca interjected.

            “I don’t know. I’m pretty tired, and I shouldn’t be out so late.”

            Rebecca put her hands on her hips. “Why not? You aren’t competing tomorrow anymore, and you need to relax. I’ll take you home and make sure you don’t back out.”

            Riza grinned and quickly kissed her boyfriend’s cheek before allowing herself to be dragged away by Rebecca. Havoc smirked at Roy one last time before following them.

            “Becky sure is pushy,” Hughes mumbled when the trio was well out of hearing range.

            “If Riza didn’t really want to go, she wouldn’t have relented.” Roy shrugged and toed the grass beneath his feet. Riza was injured, and it obviously wasn’t new. It bothered him that he hadn’t known about the lingering shoulder issue. “Can I get a ride with you guys? I just realized I came with Bec, and I don’t think I can stomach being in a car with Havoc for an hour.”

            Maes laughed and guided Sheska through the crowd. “Come on, you big, pouting baby. I think it’s actually _you_ who needs to relax the most.”

            Roy couldn’t disagree about needing to relax, but he wasn’t pouting. He _wasn’t_.


	3. Chapter 3

            Berthold Hawkeye regretted many things in his life. When he looked back on the rift he’d caused between his late wife and her family, he felt ashamed. He could’ve handled that entire situation with a good deal more tact. There was no need for a rushed elopement, and his ego would’ve eventually healed from the blow of her father’s disapproval. Elizabeth’s temper won the day, though, and the situation spiraled out of control. Had he taken a more objective stance, he could have seen things from old man Grumman’s point of view and slowed their relationship down. With a grunt, he realized referring to his father-in-law by the "old" moniker was a bit of a joke. Wasn’t _he_ the old man now?

            Another regret was getting so caught up in his work he didn’t notice how ill Elizabeth had become. The cancer spread quickly and took over her entire body. Watching her die had been the most desperate period of his life. He could do nothing but hold her hand through the pain. The angry glares from her father at the large family funeral still burned him in his dreams. Berthold knew he deserved them.

            He also wished he’d encouraged a stronger relationship between his daughter and her grandparents after Elizabeth’s death. Riza struggled with her loneliness, and he knew he was poor company. It was his wife who’d brought the sunshine into the house. She chased away all his storm clouds, and his heart still ached with the absence of her laughter. Riza was a miniature carbon copy of her mother, and that didn’t help his grief.

            Roy Mustang was a blessing. The boy’s own parents had been killed some years before in a tragic car accident; Berthold remembered the sensationalist news stories that lead to better guard rails on the South River Bridge. He made Riza smile again, and her happiness had helped him repair his own relationship with his daughter. Selfish as that was, he was grateful he hadn’t had to take the first painful step.

            It did not escape his attention that the Mustang boy’s evenings were no longer spent at his home. Riza’s attentions now mostly fell upon Jean Havoc. The senior Havoc was a successful business man and a well-respected member of their community, but Berthold shared Roy’s not-so-subtle distaste for Jean. He was loud, arrogant, and his jokes often left one wanting and wondering if he’d misfired the punch line. Of course, he never mistreated Riza, and Hawkeye had no doubts his daughter would send the boy packing if he dared to try anything inappropriate. But, he disliked Jean all the same. Perhaps his judgments were unfair, but was a father _supposed_ to approve of _every_ stray dog his daughter brought home? Surely not.

            Unlike her mother, Riza didn’t seem to be driven by raw emotion and had laughed when he casually asked if she intended on spending the rest of her life with the junior Havoc. Besides her excellence in archery, she also studied fervently in history and showed a significant interest in foreign political policy. Berthold didn’t attend as many of her extra-curricular activities as he’d like, but the one debate he’d seen made his chest swell with pride. His little girl was smart, quick-witted, and stuck her points soundly and without excess. She wasn’t a romantic.

            Jean was an athlete; his academic skills were fair and largely mediocre. He hadn’t failed any courses to date, but his efforts were lacking in the same way as his attempts at humor. The boy seemed to aspire only to commandeer his father’s business empire and focused his energies on related subjects. Mustang, on the other hand, was bright and full of questions. The easy way he accepted criticism and applied it to his studies was refreshing for a rigid man like Hawkeye. It wasn’t hard to admit he was a favorite, and it seemed fortuitous he had an eye for chemistry. Roy also had an eye for Riza. Berthold doubted Mustang had actually consolidated his friendship feelings with the romantic ones - the moody, and awkward way he interacted with his daughter as of late spoke irritating volumes - but he certainly wouldn’t mind if Riza announced she reciprocated those feelings one day.

            Hawkeye coughed into a handkerchief and stuffed it back into his breast pocket. His employment at the academy was something he cherished. Hardly the groundbreaking, and somewhat illegal, alchemical research he’d been free to pursue at the university, but he could be closer to Riza now. He wanted to tell her about his diagnosis, but with each passing day, the task grew infinitely harder. She had suffered greatly after Elizabeth’s death, and he was loath to add to her burden. It was his hope that her friendship with Roy would be enough to carry her through this time.

* * *

 

            The dam was really nothing but a shoddy attempt to stop flash flooding near the South River Bridge and the system of farm roads feeding towards it. It had been in place prior to the bridge renovations the media coverage of his parent’s death had achieved. Roy didn’t especially enjoy going there, but it was a popular place for kids to escape adult authority. He always supposed he should have more introspective thoughts about spending time only a few hundred yards from the spot where his parents died, but he didn’t. When he was younger, he’d confessed to Riza a fear that his disinterest made him a heartless human being. She’d only hugged him and asked, _If you’re so heartless, then why did you keep coming back to me? You care about a lot of things, Roy. Don’t feel bad for not having deep feelings about something that happened when you were just a little kid._

Roy’s foul mood from earlier hadn’t lifted, and he was content to stew in his own frustration apart from everyone else. He sipped his beer with disinterest on the far edge of the dam and threw pebbles over the edge. When Rebecca and Riza finally showed up, he put on a happier face. His girlfriend winked at him across the small campfire, and he smiled finally. Rebecca brought out a gregarious side of him that helped to dull the edge of his recent funk. He loved the sound of her laugh and the way she grabbed his hand when he felt like an outsider amongst his own friends. It also helped that she never questioned him ad nauseam about his friendship with Riza. He’d had quite enough of that in the past.

            “Are you going to sit in the dark all night?” Rebecca plopped down next to him and nudged his ribs with an elbow.

            “Nope.” He smiled down at her. “I was just waiting for you.”

            “Aw, that’s sweet, Roy. If you hadn’t been such a grouch earlier, I’d almost believe you.” She took his hand in hers and leaned her head against his shoulder. “You can talk to me, you know. Whatever’s bothering you bothers me too.”

            “I’m sorry.” Roy felt like he’d been saying that a lot lately. “I know I’ve been pretty intolerable.” He reached over and turned her head to face him. “It’s not your fault.”

            “Nope, it isn’t. It’s _your_ fault for not liking your best friend’s boyfriend.”

            “I don’t have to like him.”

            She looked him in the eye. “True, but what good is it to hate him? Riza could do a lot worse, you know. Jean is sweet to her, and she looks happy.”

            “Hughes is right. I’m just a big, pouting baby, I guess.”

            She laughed and slid her arm around his waist before kissing him. Another thing he liked about Rebecca was her total lack of shame for publicly displayed affection. Whether it was the absent-minded way her fingers ran through his hair or the disregard for students passing them in the hallway when she pressed her lips to his between classes, Roy always felt like the only person she saw in a crowd. She was a physically expressive girl, and he’d be an awful liar if he said he didn’t enjoy it. During the most recent school assembly, she’d whispered in his ear that she’d be waiting for him in the unused supply closet behind a stairwell. Obviously he couldn’t disappoint her, and he counted himself lucky that her parents were progressive enough to supply their daughter with a prescription for birth control.

            “You should come over tonight,” Rebecca whispered against his mouth. “Mom is working a graveyard shift, and Dad is still out of the country.”

            “Can’t we just leave now? I’d like that _very_ much.” Roy’s fingers inched their way into the waistband of her shorts.

            “No, you horn dog. I want to hang out for a little while, and we can’t leave until Jean shows up. I won’t leave Riza without a ride home. Not with Kimblee here, anyway. She took a pain pill for her shoulder, and I don’t trust that guy.”

            Roy leaned his forehead against her shoulder. “You’re such a saint, Bec.”

            She snorted and grabbed his empty beer bottle. “I’m actually saving you from jail time. Don’t act like you wouldn’t flay him if he touched her.”

            “You’re right,” he mumbled. “Why are you always right?”

            “I can’t help it. Now stop trying to be a lone wolf and come sit with me. I think it may rain soon anyway. I want you to be sociable and try to make the best of the evening.” She left him alone on the pilings and joined their friends. Roy tossed the last of his pebbles over the edge and left his perch.

            After Rebecca’s comments about Riza medicating her shoulder, he opted for only one more beer. It wasn’t that Kimblee had ever done anything to earn Roy’s distrust, but the guy was definitely off-putting. He always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone else in a conversation and liked to keep people uncomfortable. Riza hadn’t ever cared for him. She claimed he looked at her like he knew everything about her. At the time, Roy cracked a joke about x-ray vision and earned himself a bruise on his shin afterwards.

            For the first time ever, Roy was happy to see Havoc. He showed up only minutes before the clouds started to mist on them, and, at the very least, Roy knew he could be trusted to escort Riza home without sexually assaulting her. Jean Havoc may have been an arrogant jerk, but he wasn’t a rapist. Roy could admit he wasn’t a bad boyfriend, but those facts didn’t make him dislike the guy any less.

            He followed Rebecca home in his own car and found himself in her bed. It wasn’t unusual for them to meet at her house rather than his. Chris Mustang rarely arrived home before midnight, but Rebecca’s mother regularly worked the nights as an obstetrician at Central General Hospital. Her father spent most of his time in other countries, smoothing out corporate trade deals and business contracts. If Roy’s aunt took issue with the late hours he spent with his girlfriend, she never complained too loudly.

            Roy leaned back against the mass of pillows and ran his fingers over Rebecca’s naked thighs. She sighed and traced formless shapes on his chest. He enjoyed the warmth of her body and the way her breasts pressed against him.

            “Will you stay with me tonight?”

            “I can’t. My aunt will kill me if she finds my bed empty in the morning.”

            “There isn’t anything I can do to convince you?” Rebecca sucked the skin of his neck into her mouth, and he couldn’t help the groan that escaped his throat.

            “I’m easily convinced, but it’s not the hill I want to die on.”

            She laughed and rolled off him. “Well, you’d better go then. I’d hate to be the cause of your death.” Roy sat up and groped in the darkness for his shirt

            “Ah, Bec, if I died in bed with you, it would be the best a guy could hope for.” He slid on his pants and shoes. “What a way to go,” he whispered before kissing her goodbye. “I’ll see you Monday.”

            “Yeah, yeah. Go home, and be careful on the road. It’s raining pretty hard now.”

            “I am an excellent driver,” Roy scoffed.

            “I doubt Breda’s dad would agree. How many tickets did he write you last year?”

         “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Roy smiled, ducked out of her bedroom, and made sure to arm the house alarm before stepping out the front door.

            The rain was, indeed, falling harder, and by the time he pulled into his own driveway, the hour was later than he'd planned. His aunt’s car was in the garage, and Roy prepared for her well-deserved wrath. Getting home so late was a crime in and of itself, but in the rain was especially heinous. It had been in such a storm his own parents were killed. She’d never gotten past the manner of their deaths, and Roy knew he really should have been more considerate. He bit his lip and entered the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have painted Berthold Hawkeye differently here, and it's intentional. I don't want Riza to be the abused girl that she is in canon. I wanted Hawkeye to be human, and likable.


	4. Chapter 4

            Chris Mustang leaned against the kitchen counter and stirred too much sugar into her coffee. She knew it was too much before adding the heaping spoonful to her cup. The texture would be quite thick now, and once she poured the creamer, the coffee would be wholly undrinkable by anyone but her. Which was fine, in her opinion. Since discovering the disgusting way she preferred her morning beverages, Roy was less inclined to steal sips on his way out the front door. Chris doubted her nephew had ever actually wanted the coffee, just the attention that came along with sneaking it.

            Roy’s seventh birthday wasn’t but a few months behind him when his parents were killed. Chris hadn’t been especially close to her younger brother, but the loss was no less crippling. She’d never wanted children of her own and found herself even less interested in tolerating a man’s company outside of a business arrangement long enough to conceive one. Her brother’s death, and the resulting custody of a young boy were both equally taxing. Chris didn’t understand children, and Roy was _needy_.

            Nannies proved to be useless; Roy bossed them relentlessly, and one had actually quit on her first day. Eventually Chris gave up and took to bringing him to the restaurants with her. The army of escorts she employed were more than happy to entertain the little boy who loved to be coddled and petted. He reveled in their fawning and basked in the attentions of pretty girls who seemed to absolutely adore giving him whatever he asked for. Chris pondered whether this situation was best for his still-developing personality. She thought it might be harmful for him to be under the impression that women were simply a source of entertainment and affection.

            Those worries were what led Chris to invite Vanessa into her home. Vanessa was one of her younger employees and had suffered a brutal sexual assault behind her south-end location. The attacker was a prominent community member, and no punishments would be doled out for his actions. Threats were made, the police hadn’t been called, and a bruised, battered girl had been left sobbing behind a stack of empty liquor crates. Chris’s temper flared when she realized exactly how tied her hands were. Despite her connections in government, nothing would be done for Vanessa or the child that grew inside her.

            Roy had been with her for only a year at the time, and she thought the situation as good an opportunity as any to teach him that women were human beings, not playthings, and they deserved the same respect as anyone else, regardless of profession. He took the lesson to heart and attached himself to Vanessa. The woman couldn’t escape his smothering brand of comfort. He brought her snacks, that he’d made himself, of course, and insisted on reading her unborn child stories every evening. As her belly grew, so did Roy’s apprehension. He wasn’t allowed in the delivery room, but Chris remembered the wide-eyed wonder on his face as he stared at the sleeping newborn behind the nursery glass.

            Chris wondered often if Roy would have been as perceptive to the Hawkeye girl’s loneliness had Vanessa not spent her convalescence and pregnancy in their home. Even though her nephew had lost his parents before he was old enough to truly appreciate the extent of loss, he didn’t hold anything back from Riza. He empathized and held her hand until she was ready to let go. Their friendship had changed over the years, and Chris couldn’t think of many girls Roy dated in the past that didn’t take issue with it. The meddling, jealous kind didn’t last very long. She’d raised a loyal boy, and he’d never put anyone over his best friend.

            The fate of the current female in Roy’s life remained to be seen. It wasn’t that she _disliked_ Rebecca Catalina - there wasn’t actually anything wrong with her - but Chris still opted to view the romance with a temporary lens. Not because the boisterous girl didn’t make Roy happy; she knew he was happy - and if the two of them thought she hadn’t noticed the late hours her nephew strode through the front door, and in what disheveled state, they were grossly mistaken - but Rebecca wasn’t Riza. Chris interpreted the lack of jealousy and hounding to mean she knew their fatal flaw on some level but accepted it. She’d also decided, privately, that Roy’s persistence in dating around indicated a total lack of acknowledgement for his latent romantic feelings towards Riza. Teenage priorities, in her opinion, were often rooted in hormonal surges and ebbs.

            Until the previous week, Chris had been about ready to admit that perhaps Rebecca would be around for longer than she’d originally anticipated. However, she’d overheard a clashing of heads over an unexpected subject. Based on the one-sided conversation she’d caught from outside Roy’s bedroom, Rebecca found the amount of time he devoted to studying excessive, and his mood of late unbearably morose. Roy had always been a bit of a bookish boy, preferring studying to athletics, but in the last year, he’d spent more early mornings and afternoons than she could count pouring over chemical theorem with Riza’s father, Doctor Hawkeye. She suspected Roy would eventually take an interest in the same State Alchemist program Hawkeye had made a name for himself in, but he was still too young by nearly a year.

            Chris didn’t think Roy would want to wait to graduate from Central Amestris Academy before transferring to the military university, and she was prepared for that eventuality. Students could be accepted in their final year of grade school, and Roy would only be able to take his civilian research so far. Alchemy was a highly restricted field and the use of State Alchemists as soldiers a controversial subject in political circles. The growing unrest on the eastern borders with Ishval and crumbling political negotiations were upsetting. She wanted her nephew to pursue whatever interested him, but not at the cost of his life.

* * *

 

            Riza scowled and sniffed the cuff of her jacket sleeve. “This is ridiculous,” she mumbled. “It’s not even lunch break yet, and I can smell it.”

            “Smell what?” Roy asked, tapping his pen on an open textbook page.

_“This.”_ Riza shoved the jacket at him and waited expectantly. Roy cautiously smelled the fabric and tried not to wrinkle his nose.

            “Well, you _are_ dating a smoker.” He turned his attention back to the text. “What did you think would happen?”

            Riza tossed the jacket onto the back of a chair across from Roy and fell into it. Besides after school hours, the library was most quiet in the period before lunch. No study groups met during this time, and Roy usually enjoyed his solitude. It was also the only time he could get away with his intense method of study without making an excuse to Rebecca.

            “I hate the smoking.”

            Roy glanced up and eyed Riza. She wasn’t even looking at him, and he guessed she wanted to gripe more than converse.

            “Tell him to quit, then.”

            “That would be about as fruitful as telling the drunks in your aunt’s south-end bar to stop being drunks.” She crossed her arms over her chest and kept her eyes on the table between them.

            Roy went back to his work. “Have you told Havoc how much it bothers you?”

            “No.”

            “Well then, what do you expect him to do?”

_That_ won him a look, which turned out to be an angry glare. “Why are you suddenly being so conciliatory about Jean? You hate him.”

            He sighed. “Fine. The guy’s an asshole who smokes too much. Coach Hakuro should bench him until he quits, and you shouldn’t let him in your pants in the meantime. How’s that?”

            “You’re in such a good mood today.”

            “I’d be in a better mood if I could finish this article.”

            “Excuse the hell out of me, Roy, for wanting to talk to you. I’ll just go back to my dad’s office if I’m bothering you that much.” She stood and yanked her jacket off the chair.

            Roy jumped up and closed his textbook. “No, don’t do that. I’m sorry. I’m in a shitty mood, too. Please stay?” Riza flopped back into the chair and continued to give him an evil eye. “Just tell Havoc you hate the way his cigarettes smell. I’m sure he’ll at least stop smoking around you.”

            “That won’t keep his car from reeking or his clothes from smelling like an ashtray. I’m just over it.”

            “Well, what about my earlier suggestion? Stop putting out, and see how that goes.”

            Riza smirked. “Jean isn’t like you. He doesn’t have sex-brain.”

            Roy leaned forward over his notebook and text. “So you’re telling me he’s so uninterested in sex that the threat of a lockout would be completely ineffective?”

            “I’m telling you he knows it would be an empty threat.”

            He blinked. “I don’t follow.”

            “Jean isn’t the aggressive one in our relationship.” Riza drummed her fingers on the table, waiting for him to catch up. Roy’s head tilted to the side.

            “So it’s _you_ that has the sex-brain?” He laughed and then cleared his throat remembering they were in a library.

            “I’m glad this is so funny to you.”

            “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing _at_ you. That was just unexpected.”

            “Why? Women have sex drives, too. It’s not completely unheard of, and don’t think you’re hiding that hickey on your neck _at all._ You certainly didn’t give it to _yourself,_ Roy Mustang.”

            Roy’s face heated, and his hand flew to his neck. Even several days old, Rebecca’s handiwork was, apparently, still completely visible. “Hey now, we’re talking about you, not me. Want me to slash Havoc’s tires and leave a shoe polish threat on his windshield? I’d do it for you.”

            Finally, Riza smiled. “No, I suppose I should at least bring it up before setting you on him like that.” She sighed dramatically. “Though, it’s tempting.”

            “Say the word, Riza, and it’s done.”

            “I’ll get back to you on it. What do you want for your birthday? I’ve been waiting for you to tell me, and we’re down to a week. You’re impossible to shop for, did you know that?”

            “I am not! My tastes are simple.”

            Riza rolled her eyes. “When we were twelve, I got you a very expensive book bag, and you fell off your bike a week later and ruined it in a puddle of mud.”

            “Listen, that rabid cat came out of nowhere and was hardly my fault. Also, I don’t think things that happen after the gift-giving make the actual shopping part difficult.”

            “Maybe I should get you a book on safe driving.”

            “Why is everyone always implying I’m a bad driver?” Riza hid her mouth behind the hood of her jacket and tried to control her giggles. “Tell me what you want for _your_ birthday, then.”

            Riza groaned and hid her face in the mound of jacket. “Nothing. I don’t want anything. I want to sit at home and watch television with a tub of ice cream.”

            “So I can get you ice cream? This is a cheap year for me.”

            She raised her head and blew a few loose strands of hair from her eyes. “Seriously, don’t get me anything. I _know_ Becky is planning something, and I want no part of it.” Riza leaned forward. “As my best friend, you are required to tell me if she’s planning something awful.”

            “Define awful.”

            “Anything outside my previously disclosed terms of TV and ice cream.”

            Roy kept his face as straight as possible. “Riza, she’s probably planning something awful.”

            “Probably? You don’t know?”

             “Well, she’s not exactly-” The school bells sounded quieter within the library walls but could still be heard clearly.

            Riza stood, smoothed the pleats of her uniform skirt, and slid on her jacket as Roy gathered his belongings. “By the way, are you studying with my dad after school today?”

            “If I can get away with it.”

            She raised an eyebrow. “What’s that mean? I thought your aunt was okay with you staying after all the time.”

            “Oh, she’s not the one who’s bothered by it. Becky, on the other hand, probably feels the same way about it that you do about Havoc’s smoking.”

            “Wow, really? I had no idea.” Riza fell into step beside him as they wound their way through the sea of tables and shelves. “Is that why she’s been hiding out in the dance studio for lunch the last couple of days? I didn’t realize you guys were fighting.”

            Roy shrugged. “Probably. It’s fine. She’ll have to get over it.”

            “What if she stops putting out instead?” Riza asked as she elbowed him.

            “Ha! I’m stronger than I look, Riza.” He didn’t have to see her to know she was grinning.

            “Somehow, I doubt you’re _that_ strong.”

            They walked together through the hungry throng of eleventh year students, and Roy tried to contain his laughter when Riza refused to let Havoc kiss her when they entered the cafeteria. She complained loudly that she could still see the tendrils of smoke coming from his lungs. His smugness was short lived, though. Rebecca made an appearance for the first time since she’d left the purple mark on his neck. She had an uncanny ability to keep her frustration with him separate from her amorous appetites, and when he’d been cornered near the field house following track practice the Monday after their tense phone argument, he didn’t try to engage her in conversation.

            She was still clad in her pink camisole and black dance pants, and Roy couldn’t help the sneak peeks at her rear end as he stood behind her in line. If Rebecca noticed, she declined to comment. Instead, she poked the beehive. “So are you going to hang out with me today, or are you going to go bury yourself in Doctor Hawkeye’s office?”

            Roy snatched a plate of something - he didn’t care what at this point - and tried to remain calm. “Becky, I told you how important this stuff is to me.”

            “I know. I’m not hard of hearing, Roy. Answer my question.”

            “Yes,” he bit out. “I am going to see Doctor Hawkeye after school today and probably every day this week unless I have to be at the track.”

            When they’d cleared the line, she spun on him. Her glare wasn’t nearly as terrifying as Riza’s. “Answer me this, then. What are you studying, Roy? Chemistry or _her?_ ”

            Roy’s eyes narrowed. Rebecca had never brought this subject up before, and he felt she must really be trying to get a reaction out of him. “Don’t. I will not have this discussion, Bec. So just _don’t._ ”

            “I feel like you aren’t even interested in me anymore unless we’re half naked.”

            “That’s completely untrue. You initiated that, not me.”

            “Because I felt like I had to! God, Roy, what are we even doing anymore?”

            He had no answer for her. He liked Rebecca, but he was beginning to realize the parts of her he liked best came without demands. They’d been so easy before, and now every conversation felt like an effort he didn’t have the energy for. She seemed appalled by his silence.

            “Wow, Roy. Just wow. I’m going back to the studio.” Rebecca marched off, and Roy’s guilt came in a distant second to his irritation. A long afternoon in a secluded classroom was looking pretty damn good.

            As always, Doctor Hawkeye’s classroom was quiet. Roy had come to see it as a bit of a haven for himself. Even more so than the library. Most of his classmates considered Hawkeye intimidating, but Roy found his quiet way of assessing people and situations a relief. It was rare he had to pedantically explain things to the man, and it was a quality he also appreciated in Riza.

            “At the risk of sounding like a clueless old man, I don’t suppose you have any idea what my daughter would like for her birthday?”

            Roy peeked up at Doctor Hawkeye. His lips were turned up in an embarrassed grin. “Sir, you’re not an old man.”

            “That’s very kind of you, Roy.”

            “It’s true! You look the same as you did when I was a little kid.”

            “Ah, but in your terms, that’s a longer stretch of time than in mine.”

            “You aren’t old,” Roy insisted. “To answer your question, though, I have no idea. I asked her myself today, and her reply was probably not the best solution.”

            “Indulge me.”

            Roy sighed and set aside his pencil. “She said she wanted to watch TV at home and eat ice cream all night.”

            “Riza isn’t prone to saying things she doesn’t mean.”

            “True, but I think she’s saying that because she’s annoyed.”

            Hawkeye glanced up from his work. “With you?”

            “No, not with me. She expressed some… _irritation_ with Havoc, and I think maybe it’s overshadowing her birthday.”

            “I see.”

            “There’s no pointing in hassling her about it, either. I’d rather her stay mad at him than get mad at me.”

            “A fair choice.”

            Roy poked at his pencil and rolled it on the tabletop between his hands. “Sir, do you think I spend too much time here? Do you think I _bury_ myself?”

            Doctor Hawkeye removed his glasses and sat back on his lab stool. He carefully cleaned the lenses between his fingers using an untucked shirt tail. “Son, I think your aunt would take issue with any _burying_.”

            “Well-” Roy concentrated on the pencil. He hated dumping on anyone but Riza, and talking to her father about personal matters felt intrusive. True to his quiet nature, Hawkeye didn’t press. He simply continued to wipe at his lenses and eventually set them back on his nose. “It’s not my aunt that has anything negative to say.”

            “Would you be referring to Miss Catalina then?”

            He sighed and balanced his chin on a palm. “Yeah. She says I’ve been too distracted lately, but I don’t feel that way.”

            “You’ve explained the level of interest you have in the subjects you study?”

            “I tried my best. Today, I got so angry with her at lunch-” Roy scowled, remembering the low blow Rebecca had taken to get his attention.

            “You know, before I met Riza’s mother I had a hard time entertaining romances.” Roy’s eyebrows flew up. Doctor Hawkeye _never_ spoke about his late wife or his youth. “Don’t look so surprised, Roy. I was a young man your age once.”

            “I… I mean, I didn’t mean to-”

            Hawkeye laughed and waved off his concerns in a way that very much reminded him of Riza’s mannerisms. “It’s fine, son. It’s hard to find a balance between romance and study when you’re still figuring things out. I didn’t meet Elizabeth until I was a young, arrogant lieutenant and freshly minted into the State Alchemy program.”

            Roy tilted his head to the side. _Lieutenant Hawkeye_. He couldn’t even imagine it.

            “She was a brilliant pianist and had her own engaging obsessions. Elizabeth would spend hours shut up in her conservatory pounding away at the keys until the notes bent to her will. I wasn’t ever allowed to watch, but I could hear the music.” Hawkeye drifted off into his memories, and Roy couldn’t help but stare at the man openly. “It was a quick tumble into love, I’ll admit. We- _I_ didn’t behave at my best. Her father was a general back then, and you can guess how excited he was that his only daughter had taken up with a lieutenant. Even worse, an _alchemist_.”

            “What’s wrong with that?” Roy bit his lip. He hadn’t meant to interrupt.

            “Back then, the State Alchemy program hadn’t been in place for very long. Less than a decade or two, in fact. It cultivated even more vigorous discussion in government than it does now.” Hawkeye sighed and shook his head. “My point is, if you don’t want to be either alone or constantly in a battle with someone over your attentions, you’ve got to find a partner who understands you. Someone with independent interests. Does that make sense?”

            “Yeah. I-” Roy ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t think Becky and I are going to work out. It’s not fair to her, really.”

            “Or you. Guilt is a cruel emotion.”

            “Sir, I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

            Hawkeye smiled knowingly.

            “Do you think I’m good enough? For the State Alchemy program, I mean.”

            “Absolutely.”

            “Really?” Roy’s voice hitched. He hadn’t expected such a quick and solid reply.

            “I do. I can help you with your essays if you’d like, as well. First impressions are very important, and the State Alchemy program is notoriously elite and selective.”

            “Wow, thank you!”

            “Of course, Roy.” He winked. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

            A quick knock on the classroom doorframe broke the conversation. Riza leaned against the wall, and she wasn’t smiling. “Hey, Dad. Can I get a ride home with you?”

            Doctor Hawkeye glanced at her and began to gather his papers. “Are you ready now? I think we’re about done here. Unless you had more questions, Roy?”

            “No, I think that’s enough for today. I really appreciate this, sir. You have no idea how much.” He stuffed his books and notes into his bag.

            “I think I have an inkling, and you’re always welcome.” He turned back to his daughter. “I’m just going to lock up my office, and we can go.”

            Riza nodded and approached the lab table. “I saw what happened at lunch. I’m sorry.”

            “It’s expected, I suppose. Thanks, though.” Roy ducked under the shoulder strap of his bag. “Did you talk to Havoc?”

            “I did. He says he’s going to make more of an effort, but whatever. I almost don’t care anymore.”

            “That’s not a great outlook.”

            She shrugged. “It wasn't going to last forever.”

            Roy pulled her into a hug. “Aw, don’t think of it like that. You sure you only want ice cream for your birthday?”

            “I’m sure.” She pulled away when Roy’s stomach growled. “You should probably go home and feed that beast. Have you eaten since lunch?”

            “Nope. I kind of forgot.”

            Riza shook her head exasperatedly. “I swear, Roy, one of these days you’re going to forget to breathe and fall over dead.”

            “Not if I have you constantly reminding me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Riza.”


	5. Chapter 5

            May Chang hummed to herself as she arranged and rearranged the jars of medical supplies in her small clinic. She felt organization was the best way to combat space issues. All of the plastic and glass containers were clearly labeled now, thanks to her new, electronic label maker. The machine had been a gift from her fiancé, Alphonse, and it was possibly the sweetest thing he’d ever given her. She loved him even more than she already had for such thoughtfulness.

            Her employment at Central Amestris Academy was a welcome change from the stresses of triage nursing at the hospital. She’d come face to face with death one too many times, and her heart couldn’t take it anymore. The decision to resign hadn’t been an easy one, and when May expressed her guilt over it to Alphonse, he’d only embraced her and said, _It isn’t selfish to take a step back. I know you want to hop on the same lily pad as your patients, but when you find yourself unable to hop back at the end of the day, maybe it’s time to find a new pond._

            So May found a new pond. The hours were certainly better, and despite the irritatingly superior attitude of Headmaster Bradley, she truly enjoyed her job. The coming, and going of the students left her feeling surrounded by life instead of trauma and death.

            During her first month at the academy, one particular student seemed to visit her clinic more than any of the others. Kain Furey was a small boy whose tuition was paid on scholarship, and unfortunately, his status attracted the wrong sort of attention. His glasses had been broken on more than one occasion, and once, she’d had to keep his eye iced to prevent it from swelling shut. When asked if he’d like her to call his mother, Kain insisted she had a very stressful job already and didn’t need the added concerns of any social problems he might be having at school.

            One afternoon, just before the last period of the day, he trudged into her office with a shirt covered in what appeared to be salad dressing. It was on that particular afternoon Riza Hawkeye happened to be present, requiring anti-inflammatory medication for a lingering shoulder injury. The girl took one look at Kain’s soiled clothes and yellowing eye bruise and demanded to know who’d done it. Her eyes narrowed maliciously when he admitted it had been Basque Grand. Kain begged her to leave it alone, but Riza only barked out a harsh laugh and assured him Basque would never bother him again. _Don’t worry, Kain, I can handle that jerk. It won’t be the first time I’ve had to take him down a peg._

May wasn’t exactly sure what Miss Hawkeye’s methods of intimidation were, but Kain hadn’t been through her clinic with bully inflicted injuries since. The only time she saw him now was to supervise the administration of his asthma inhaler. Riza, however, popped in nearly every day for her own medication, but May never did ask her about Basque.

            The first time Roy Mustang hobbled into her office with a sprained ankle, he had a friend with him who seemed to have a penchant for joke-making. He claimed Roy wouldn’t have tripped if he’d just kept his eyes focused on where he was going instead of a certain archer in the adjacent field. When he came back the second time for an excuse note, and a proper wrap, he had a dark-haired female with him. May decided she must be his girlfriend, judging by the way she clung to his side. The girl, though, was dressed as though she’d just come from a dance rehearsal and not from an archery field.

            It wasn’t until Riza brought in a prescription for a much stronger dose of anti-inflammatory medication that May finally connected the dots. Miss Hawkeye had a curiously-shaped athletics bag slung over her shoulder, and her practice t-shirt had a tiny green and gold archer on the left front breast.

            May couldn’t help her naturally curious nature - her mother called it _nosey_ , but May preferred _curious_. She told herself the personal lives of her student patients were none of her business but also noted that teenagers were the masters of oblivious denial.

* * *

 

            News of Rebecca’s breakup with Roy traveled faster than he’d expected. On the morning of his seventeenth birthday, he stuffed several garishly wrapped presents into his locker. Catherine Elle Armstrong didn’t even bother to conceal her intentions. Her gift was a red box with a gold bow, from which dangled the insignia charm of what he knew to be an expensive lingerie store. He had a feeling he didn’t want to open it in public.

            Roy wasn’t particularly _depressed_ over the end of his relationship, though he was sad to see it go and suspected his night would end on a melancholy note. There would be no escaping the party and dinner his aunt always threw for him, and he’d done his best to make sure Rebecca knew she was still invited even if they weren’t dating any longer. Whether she attended or not wasn’t something he planned to dwell on. Nothing was to be done, and the breakup was for the best.

            As the afternoon wore on, Roy began to understand why Riza might want an evening alone with nothing but a television remote and a tub of ice cream. Maes teased him relentlessly about the youngest Armstrong sister.

            “At least it wasn’t from Olivier,” Maes laughed.

            “If Olivier gave me a gift with a sparkly bow from Pandora’s Box, I’d have been terrified.” Roy poked at his lunch and tried to keep his responses minimal. Encouraging Hughes would only lead to more teasing.

            “Who gave you a gift from Pandora’s Box?” Riza nudged a chair aside with her foot and sat next to Roy.

            “Catherine Elle. It’s red and has a gold ribbon.” Maes winked at Riza, who laughed loudly.

            “Thanks, guys. Thanks so much. It was bad enough when she gave it to me and leaned forward. I do _not_ think her shirt was buttoned to dress code standards.”

            Riza leaned into him and patted his arm. “Oh, Roy, she’s had it bad for you for ages. You had to expect she’d try to entice you.”

            “In _private_ , maybe! Not in the hallway where everyone could see. Good grief, Rebecca and I just broke up!” Roy’s embarrassment was escalating.

            “Have you opened it?” Maes was far too interested for Roy’s liking.

            “ _No!_ It’s probably something awful like crotchless panties.”

            Riza continued to rub his arm helpfully. “Context is _so_ important when it comes to crotchless lingerie.”

            “Not helping, Riza.” He tried to glare at her, but her stifled giggle told him he only came off as pathetic.

            “I’m sorry.” She rested her head against his shoulder and calmed herself. “What time is your party tonight? Jean is still sick, and I doubt he can make it out of bed, much less survive a social event hosted by your aunt. Can I ride with you?”

            “Probably seven-ish. Come by anytime. I’m going straight home after school. No point in dragging a crowd of groupies to your dad’s classroom door.”

            Riza ran her fingers through his hair, and Roy tried not to purr like a cat. “Aw, it’s okay. One afternoon off won’t rot your brain. I’ll have Dad drop me off at six. You _definitely_ need help dressing.” She patted his head once more and left him alone with Hughes at the emptying lunch table.

            “You should see your face right now, Roy.”

            “Excuse me?” He could still feel Riza’s fingernails on his scalp.

            Maes chuckled. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

            “You’re an asshole, Hughes.”

            “Does she really help you dress?” Maes was wiggling his eyebrows in a ridiculously salacious way.

            “ _No!_ I mean, not like _that_. She just helps me with my bowties and stuff.” Roy shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I can’t ever do it right, and Aunt Chris only laughs at me and says I need to learn on my own.”

            “I agree with her.”

            “It’s impossible! Everything is backwards. _And stupid_.”

            “I’m glad to see you’re mature about it.” Maes’s grin was still plastered all over his face, and Roy’s pout deepened.

            “It’s my birthday, you know. I expected some sympathy, or at least less teasing.”

            “You’re shit out of luck, my friend.” Hughes stood and piled his trash on the plastic tray. “I’ll see you tonight, Roy. Good luck with Catherine Elle. Maybe if you stick with Riza all night, she’ll leave you alone.”

            “God, I hope so,” he sighed and continued to push his food around until the bell sounded.

            Roy felt overcome with relief when he heard his aunt let Riza in the front door. Several neckties and bowties were scattered across his bed, and he hated them all. She poked her head into his room.

            “Are you decent?”

            “You’re already looking, so I don’t think it matters,” he mumbled from his hunched over position, head in hands.

            “You aren’t still in a bad mood because of school, are you?” Riza sat next to him on the edge of his bed. “I’m sorry everyone is so insensitive, and I wasn’t really making fun of you.”

            “It’s not your fault. I’m just feeling morose. That’s what Bec called it, anyway.”

            Riza sighed and touched his back. “I know you feel bad now, but you guys were miserable. It’s just shitty that it had to happen so close to your birthday. Is she coming tonight?”

            “I don’t think so. I told her she was still invited, and she was polite, but I just doubt it.”

            “Does that upset you?” Riza’s voice was soft.

            “Not really. I think it would be harder if she came.”

            _“The clock is ticking, children!”_ Chris Mustang’s voice called from the bottom of the stairs. Roy sighed and sat up, finally. He looked at Riza and stared. Her dress was a form-fitting black affair, and he felt like the temperature in his bedroom skyrocketed at least twenty degrees.

            “Wow, Riza. That’s… a dress.”

            “Yes, it _is_ a dress. I’m glad you know what it’s called.” She winked at him and stood. Her heels and legs did nothing for his body temperature. “Come on, birthday boy, let’s get you suited up.” She glanced over his mess of accessories and selected a solid black bowtie that matched her dress. “Don’t worry, I won’t choke you.”

            “Right.” Roy didn’t even try not to look down at her as she set her face in concentration to fix his neckwear. A strand of hair slipped from her fancy-looking updo, and without thinking about it, he reached up and tucked it back into the fold.

            She smiled up at him. “There. You look very handsome.” Her fingers worked quickly to straighten his collar and buttons.

            “Thanks.” He couldn’t manage more words than that. Riza slipped her arm through his and tugged him towards his bedroom door.

            “Try to put on a happy face for your aunt. She just wants to make you happy,” she whispered in his ear.

            “I know. Do you think-” He paused, swallowing his embarrassment. “Do you think I could stay with you at the party? I’m pretty afraid of Catherine Elle, to be honest.”

            Riza smirked, and her hand slid from his elbow to take his. “I promise to protect you with my life. Let’s get downstairs before Lady Mustang blows a gasket.”

            Roy exhaled with relief and squeezed her hand in thanks.

            As expected, Chris Mustang put on a spectacular party. There were fifty guests, a sit-down dinner, and a long-winded toast, wherein she referred to him as her _special boy_ at least twice. _Next year,_ Roy vowed, next year, he was putting an end to this kind of display. At the very least, Riza kept her promise and stuck by his side throughout the evening. She graciously waited until Catherine Elle left the restaurant to excuse herself to the ladies' room, and left Roy alone in the party suite with a pile of gifts and an assortment of empty crystal glasses. He desperately wished one of them had a mouthful of actual alcohol in it. His aunt may have gone overboard, but she wasn’t going to be accused of providing booze to under-aged guests. With one finger, he loosened the bowtie, and it hung wrinkled around his neck.

            “Well, Roy, happy birthday,” Chris said from behind him.

            “Thanks, Aunt Chris.” He stood and faced her. She reached out and fingered the edge of his shirt collar.

            “It’s hard for me to see you so grown up, you know. I still remember the bratty little boy who came to live with me when he was seven.”

            “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I honestly don’t know what would’ve happened if I didn’t have you.”

            Chris brought him into a tight embrace. “I love you, kid.”

            “I love you, too, Aunt Chris. Thanks for the party.”

            She kissed him on the cheek and pulled away to wipe the lipstick from his face. “I know you’re probably sick of them, but I couldn’t resist one more. Next year, if you’re not off in East City stuffed into a uniform, you can pick what you’d like to do.”

            Roy smiled sheepishly. “You figured me out, huh?”

            “The second you started choosing afternoons with Doctor Hawkeye over that Catalina girl, I knew. It’s okay, Roy, I’m not going to fight you on it.”

            He drew his aunt into another crushing hug and whispered, “Thank you.”

            Chris laughed. “I don’t think I’m the one you should be worried about telling.”

            Roy sighed and sank into a padded chair. “I’ll tell Riza. Just not yet. I can’t even apply until the end of the semester.”

            “Don’t wait too long, kid. She’ll want to know.”

            “I don’t think she’ll like it,” he muttered.

            “Probably not.” Chris wrapped a scarf around her neck and dug in her handbag. “Listen, I want you and Riza to take the car home tonight. I’ve got some business to see to and have a driver.” She handed him a set of keys.

            “Alright. Thanks again for the party. Goodnight.”

            “Goodnight, kid.” Chris patted his cheek and left him alone in the party suite once again. A porter appeared and asked if he wanted his gifts carried to his aunt’s car, and he handed over the keys.

            “You look exhausted.” Riza’s voice jolted him from the settling melancholy he’d predicted earlier that day.

            “I am. You ready to go? Aunt Chris left for some business stuff, and I’ve got the car.”

            “Yep, I left your gift at your house, and I want to be with you when you open it, so let’s go there first.” She smiled and held out a hand. Roy took it.

            “Riza, if it’s panties, I’m not speaking to you for a week.”

            She laughed and squeezed his hand. “I promise it’s not underwear of any kind, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on seeing what Catherine Elle has for you in that red box.”

            “Perfect. You can open it, and I won’t ever have to touch it.”

            “Are you truly not interested in her?” Riza sounded more than incredulous. “She’s _very_ pretty.”

            Roy shrugged and held the exit door open for her. “I’m not. I think I need a break from dating, to be honest.”

            “Wow, really?”

            “Yeah, I need to figure some things out.”

            “You are full of surprises, Roy.” Riza slid into the passenger seat and seemed to content to ride in silence.

            Her gift was larger than he expected and encased in a simple box. Inside, wrapped in white tissue paper, was a leather-bound book. He recognized it at once as a third edition copy of Flamel’s _Alchemical Theory and Practice_. His eyes went wide, and he turned to her.

            “Riza. This is… how on earth did you get this?”

            “My dad pointed me in the right direction. Do you like it?”

            “Are you kidding?” he choked out. “This is the most amazing thing anyone has ever given me! It must have cost a fortune, though.”

            “Don’t worry about it. I wanted you to have the book.”

            Roy set the book and box overflowing with tissue aside. He wrapped Riza in a hug and pressed his face into her shoulder. _“Thank you.”_

            Riza didn’t try to escape his grasp. “You’re welcome, Roy. Happy birthday.” She leaned into him and finally cleared her throat. “Did I earn the right to see what’s inside the red box?”

            He squeezed her tighter and groaned. “I’d hoped you forgot.”

            “Not a chance. Let’s see it.” Riza tucked her legs underneath her on the couch when he released her and smiled widely. “Come on. If anyone gets to see, it’s going to be me.”

            “Oh, fine.” Roy picked through the stack of gifts on the buffet table behind the sofa and produced the offensive box. Riza took it from him with a grin and pulled off the gold ribbon.

            “You ready for the big reveal?”

            “The suspense is killing me,” Roy deadpanned.

            She peeked in the box and couldn’t stifle her laugh. “Oh my _god_ , Roy, you were right. This was not meant to be opened in _any_ kind of public.”

            “Do I even want to know?”

            Riza couldn’t stop laughing long enough to say anything and tossed the box onto his lap. Roy flicked the lid off with his finger and stared at the scrap of lace inside with horror. “Didn’t I tell you it would be crotchless panties? You _cannot_ tell Hughes about this! Riza, swear to me you won’t!”

            She wiped a tear from her eye and finally got ahold of herself. “I would never betray your dirty secret. That is the most heinous gift in the world. I can’t even imagine why she would think that’s okay!”

            “Because she’s an Armstrong, and the world is her personal oyster. I bet Olivier put her up to it.” Roy tossed the box aside.

            “Nah, if that had been the work of Olivier, I’m sure it would’ve been handcuffs and something leather.”

            Roy pursed his lips. “This is, by far, the worst conversation we’ve ever had. I think you need to go home and sleep it off.”

            Riza grabbed her heels and stood. “Come on, then, driver, take me home. I think I’ll keep these panties, though. Unless-” She glanced at him playfully. “Unless _you_ want to keep them for yourself?”

            “Please, keep them out of my sight forever.” Roy followed her out the front door and did _not_ think about Riza wearing the panties. He _did not_.


	6. Chapter 6

            Jin Hakuro considered himself a brutally honest man and admitted he resented every last one of his fellow athletics coaches. He had more seniority than the rest of them, and it ruffled his feathers greatly to see sports like archery take a higher slot in the pecking order of things than track and field. He _wouldn’t_ admit that his charges were rowdy, undisciplined, and unkempt time-bombs of irrationality. Certainly the team had a few bad apples, but that couldn’t be helped.

            Department meetings were something he detested with a ferocity reserved for little else. Hakuro couldn’t stand listening to coaches like that Curtis woman go on about funding when everyone knew Riza Hawkeye was the sole reason Bradley cared at all. She carried more victories than any of her peers, and the headmaster spoke only the languages of revenue and prestige. It didn’t help that the number of prized students on his track team couldn’t match Miss Hawkeye’s singular success. Maes Hughes wasn’t his fastest, and Bradley’s distaste of the Mustang boy wasn’t a secret.

            He’d been grooming Roy for months, but the kid stubbornly resisted giving up after-hours studying with that eccentric codger Doctor Hawkeye. Track and field was a slipping interest for him, and Hakuro was bitter over the slowly dawning prospect of losing his fastest sprinter. Jean Havoc was a decent runner, but he didn’t have a future as long as he kept sucking away on those damn cigarettes.

            Jin sighed loudly, earning a glare from Coach Raven. Unlike Hakuro, Christopher Raven seemed to enjoy meetings and the inner workings of running an athletic department, though he couldn’t understand why. Wrestling was simple-minded barbarism with rules, in his opinion. Those burley brutes didn't have a strategic thought in their heads. They couldn’t mentally process the proper calculations to execute a long jump or regulate their breathing down to a science to complete a run, leaving their competitors in the dust. No, wrestling was nothing but grunting and tossing.

            His thoughts wandered back to his own glory days at Central Amestris Academy. His trophies and banners still sat on display in the Hall of Victory, and Jin’s chest swelled with pride every time he strode past them. Was it too much for him to want an athlete that matched his own skill at that age? With yet another petulant sigh, he supposed it was.

* * *

 

            The sickness crawling through the halls of the academy didn’t take Roy until nearly the entire first wave of students affected had returned to classes. His throat felt like sandpaper, and coughing seemed to shake the very foundations of his soul. Fever ravaged his body, and he didn’t resist his aunt’s insistence he remain in bed. An entire week of school was missed, and by the time he recovered enough to return, Roy couldn’t have been happier. Nothing cultivated appreciation of one’s own life quite like being shut away from it.

            Finding Doctor Hawkeye’s classroom door locked was a bit of a surprise, so he opted for an early morning run outside instead. As expected, Roy found Hughes stretching on the pebbled rubber track.

            “Hey, Roy! The fever has lifted, and the golden boy returns!” His friend smiled up at him and adjusted his glasses in the morning sun.

            “I’ve been fine since Saturday, Hughes, but Aunt Chris kept me on lockdown.”

            “Understandable. I spent three days at home, myself.” Roy sat next to Maes on the athletic track and leaned forward to stretch his unused leg muscles. “So have you talked to Riza at all since before you were sick?”

            “Not really. She called, I think, but I was so out of it that I can’t remember a whole lot.”

            “Huh. Well, you probably should. Her dad missed two days last week, and she’s had to bum a ride to school from Becky.”

            Roy paused in his stretching. “I noticed his office was locked before I came out here, but why Becky? Doesn’t she usually ride in with Havoc?”

            Hughes shook his head. “You really need to talk to her. Come on, let’s get moving. I bet I lap you at least twice because you’ve been rolling around in a bed for a week!”

            He didn’t have time to mull over what Maes had said. A few of his teammates were trickling onto the field and waved at him. Roy hopped to his feet and followed after Hughes.

            The library study tables were large enough to seat four students comfortably. Roy’s books and makeup work took up the entire surface and the seat of one chair. He hadn’t even had lunch yet, and he felt exhausted; his mood suffered greatly for it. Something was off, and his inability to puzzle it out irked him. Hughes’s insistence he speak to Riza also stuck in Roy’s mind, but he hadn’t had a chance to find her for all the extra time he spent collecting a backlog of assignments and instruction.

            He sat frustratedly picking through stacks of papers littered with colorful sticky notes. When the sharp tip of his pencil snapped and left an ugly smudge on a worksheet, Roy growled out loud. How could he have ever thought returning to school would be more enjoyable than being waited on at home? Though he preferred traditional pencils to the irritating mechanical variety, Roy didn’t own a sharpener. He ticked off another black mark in his head toward Mondays in general and left his table to find a wall-mounted sharpener.

            Instead, he found something that brought his blood to a rolling boil. The boyfriend of his best friend was sitting scandalously close to the library student aide Hughes had briefly dated. His arm was slung casually around the back of Sheska’s chair, and she quietly giggled at something he’d said. Her hand rested on Havoc’s thigh, and their heads leaned in close to better study the book placed conveniently between them. Was _this_ the reason Riza had to ride to school with Becky? Did she know Havoc was cheating on her? Roy didn’t have a clue and didn’t care. Without thinking ahead at all, he approached the table.

            “Hey, Havoc,” he spat out, not even attempting civility.

            Jean rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “What do you want, Mustang? Good to see you recovered from the plague. _I guess._ ”

            Roy sneered. “I was actually looking for Riza. Do you happen to know where she is? Or maybe Sheska does?”

            The other boy stood, towering several inches over Roy, and glowered. “I wouldn’t have any idea where she is.”

            “I see.” The only light blinking in Roy’s head was how much he hated Jean Havoc. His fingers curled into a fist, and he landed the blow he’d been fantasizing about for months right on the side of Havoc’s nose. Sheska gasped, and her chair fell backwards as she jumped to her feet.

            Jean didn’t take long to recover, and Roy hadn’t actually thought past the first hit. Havoc’s eye was already starting to purple, and his aim could’ve probably been better; Roy was grateful it wasn’t because the lanky boy was apparently quite strong. His fist struck just above Roy’s jaw, splitting his bottom lip open. Not wanting to risk an entirely bruised face, Roy launched himself forward and sent Jean tumbling backwards into the empty table and chairs behind him. A few tangled jabs were thrown in the chaos before the two of them were pried apart by a security guard. He was _not_ happy about the blood on his crisp, white shirt.

            “Goddamn kids,” the man mumbled as he grabbed handfuls of rumpled shirts in either fist. “You two gonna start anything else, or can you behave while I escort you to the clinic?”

            “That depends on Mustang. He started it,” Havoc growled, his blue eyes focused on Roy, who only smirked. He thought Havoc looked great with a busted nose and a bruise that was slowly making its way around his eye.

            “I don’t want any more bullshit from either of you.” The mountainous guard hauled them from a library full of appalled students and teachers. “Now, march.” He walked them to the clinic and deposited Havoc on the bench in the lobby, while Roy was made to wait alone in an exam room.

            He sighed and let his head roll backwards into the wall with a thump. What a way to return to school. His hand throbbed, and his ribs ached where Havoc had gotten in a hit on their way down to the floor. Or maybe it had been a chair leg - Roy wasn’t sure. The thud of Headmaster Bradley’s shoes were unmistakable, and he thought perhaps the man just gave off an air of extreme displeasure wherever he went. Either way, his presence was felt.

            “Roy Mustang, come out here, please.” Bradley’s voice resonated throughout the entire clinic. Roy stood in the doorway of the exam room and noticed the nurse, Miss Chang, looking on at the confrontation with wide eyes and an armful of gauze and ointments. “Mister Mustang, I understand _you_ to be the cause of this altercation.”

            “He hit me first; I only reacted,” Havoc interjected.

            Bradley turned his petrifying gaze to Jean. “Your interpretations are not required at this time, Mister Havoc.”

            Roy wanted to shrink and crawl under the exam table behind him. “Yes, sir, it’s true. I hit him.”

            “I see. Well, then,” the headmaster straightened his shoulders and clasped his hands behind him, “this is unfortunate as you missed all of last week due to illness, but you’re suspended for the rest of the day. For raucous fighting in a library, the both of you are disqualified from athletics for the remainder of the semester.” Bradley nodded to himself and turned to go. “Effective immediately.”

            Havoc, to Roy’s horror, stood and engaged Bradley. “But, sir! That’s hardly fair! _He_ attacked _me!_ ”

            The headmaster whirled around and fixed Jean with a look that made Roy retreat into the safety of the private room. The resulting chastisement was likely heard down the hall. “There is absolutely _no_ fighting allowed of _any_ sort on the grounds of this institution. If you take offense to my punishment, you are welcome to dispute it with the board of trustees; however, I doubt Mustang back there split his own lip, don't you? _Sit down_ , Mister Havoc, and let Miss Chang see to you. _Then get out of my sight,_ ” Bradley hissed before vacating the clinic.

            Roy settled back on the table and waited for the nurse. Miss Chang first brought him a wad of gauze to stop the bleeding and left him to apply the pressure on his own while she tended to Havoc. When he heard the other boy’s boots shuffle out of the clinic, he exhaled a harassed breath and closed his eyes. The day had gone horribly wrong, and in retrospect, it had been no one’s fault but his own. Coach Hakuro would be furious, and Roy doubted he would be able to secure a spot on the spring team, even if he was eligible.

            “Oh, Roy.” Riza’s voice brought him from his miserable reverie. _“Why?”_

“How did you find out?”

            She sighed and sat next to him on the table, peering at his injuries. “ _Everyone_ knows. I heard some hallway gossip and came right down. Let me see your face.”

            Roy removed the gauze from his lip and winced when he pressed them together. “He’s cheating on you, Riza. I couldn’t stop myself.”

            She took the bloody gauze from him and tossed it in a medical waste can. “No, he isn’t. I broke up with him last week while you were home sick. I should’ve told you, but honestly, Roy, I didn’t think you’d attack him in the damn library. Are you crazy?”

            He groaned and leaned over to rest his head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m crazy _and_ stupid.”

            Riza wrapped her arm around him and gently tidied his hair. “You aren’t stupid, just… a little hot-headed.” Her body shook with a silent giggle. “I saw Jean’s nose. You did a bang up job. His eye is all blue.”

            Roy scooted closer to her. “Good,” he mumbled petulantly. “He fucked up my lip, and I think my ribs are bruised.”

            “You’ll live.”

            Miss Chang entered the exam room and took a long look at Roy’s lip. “Well, Roy, I don’t think you’ll need any stitches. But I strongly suggest a butterfly closure for a few days.” She dabbed at his face with a damp cloth to remove the dried blood and squirted some ointment onto a cotton swab. It stung, and Roy hissed. “I want you to keep it clean as possible, and this antibiotic cream should be put on twice a day.” He endured her ministrations and accepted the bag of medical supplies.

            “Knock, knock!” Hughes’s voice was far too amused. Miss Chang smiled at him and left the exam room. “Wow, Roy, that’s quite a fashion statement.”

            “Shut up, Hughes,” he mumbled. It was difficult over the bandage and cream.

            “I brought your stuff from the library. I guess you’ll be going home today.”

            Riza helped him get the strap of his bag over his head, and the pain in his ribs flared. Roy grit his teeth and exhaled. “Yeah, I’m suspended until tomorrow. Also, no more track. Depending on how pissed off Hakuro is with me, I may be done with that.”

            “Wow, harsh, man. But seriously, Roy, what were you thinking?”

            Roy glanced at Riza, who pursed her lips. “I wasn’t. Clearly.”

            “Do you need help out to your car, or do you have it? I’ve got to get back to the cafeteria before Bradley catches me wandering the halls.”

            “Nah, I’m fine. Thanks, Hughes. I appreciate it.”

            “It’s not a problem, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Maes left them alone in the exam room again, and Riza took Roy’s elbow.

            “Listen, there’s something else I need to tell you. It’s important. Can I have Becky drop me at your house after school?”

            “Of course.” He studied her face. “By important, you mean bad, don’t you?”

            She looked up at him in a long silence. “Yes.” Riza released his arm. “I’ll see you this afternoon. I’m sorry about your lip.” She gave him a sad smile and left him there with a heavy brick of apprehension in his stomach.

            As expected, Chris Mustang was displeased with his suspension, and the actions he took to earn it. She didn’t rage at him, though, instead she sipped her tea and only gave him cursory glances from her seat at the kitchen table where she read through the stack of administrative forms detailing the afternoon’s events.

            “I’m surprised at you, Roy. Fist fighting hasn’t ever been your style. What brought this on?” She raised her eyebrows and sipped her tea again.

            Roy fell into a kitchen chair and tried to rest his head on his arms, but the rib bruising prevented it. “I made a stupid assumption about something I saw, and just-” He gestured with his hands awkwardly. “I just acted. Not a whole lot of thought was involved.”

            Chris stared at him shrewdly, tapping her nails on the glass tabletop. “I wouldn’t imagine so.” She stood, pulled a loaf of bread from the box, and didn’t say a word as she prepared him a sandwich.

            “Thanks, Aunt Chris,” he mumbled when she slid the plate in front of him. Roy hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and at the sight of food, his stomach rumbled fiercely. She returned to her seat and watched him.

            “Is she upset with you?”

            “Who?” he asked around a mouthful of sandwich.

            Chris smirked. “Riza. Is she upset you picked a fight with her ex-boyfriend at school?”

            “How did you know he’s her ex-boyfriend? I didn’t even know that!”

            “She called last week while you were ill, and we had a short chat. She sounded upset, and now _this_. A lady makes assumptions.”

            “I saw her in the clinic today, and she didn’t seem mad.” Roy stared at his half-empty plate. “But she did say she had something to tell me. Becky is supposed to drop her off here after school.” He glanced up at his aunt. “If that’s okay?”

            “Becky, huh?”

            Roy shrugged. “I doubt she’ll want to come inside, but we’re fine. There’s no animosity between us.”

            “That’s good. I don’t mind if Riza comes by, but I won’t be here. I’m leaving in a moment to make my rounds across town.” She set her used teacup in the sink and gathered the folder of papers. “No more fighting, Roy. I don’t want to hear of this kind of thing again. Are we clear?”

            He nodded emphatically and carefully stuffed the remainder of his sandwich into his mouth.

            “I suggest you have one of these and try to take it easy until Riza comes by.” She set a pill bottle on the table, and with one last glance at his lip, left to handle her business.

            Riza didn’t arrive until much later than he expected, which was fine because Roy fell into a fitful nap on the sofa in the front room. The doorbell startled him, and the twitching of his abdominal muscles caused his ribs to ache. Even though Riza wasn’t dating him anymore, he still hated Havoc. With every press of his hand to his side, he hated him even more.

            Roy pulled the front door open, and Riza turned to wave Becky off. “Your lip doesn’t look any better, by the way,” she said as she stepped inside.

            “It doesn’t feel any better. Eating was painful.”

            She reached out, touched the butterfly closure, and frowned. “I can’t believe you tried to fight him, Roy. He’s much taller than you.”

            He pushed her hand away and shrugged. “I wasn’t thinking about that at the time.”

            Riza nodded. “Can we sit? I’ve got something you need to hear.” She wandered into the front room and sat on the edge of the sofa. Roy joined her, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. “It’s my dad.”

            “His classroom was locked this morning,” Roy said quietly. “And Hughes said you’ve been catching a ride to school with Becky in the mornings.”

            “Yeah, I have.”

            “Is he sick?”

            Riza looked at him and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Yes, he’s sick. Right now he’s down in South City seeing a specialist, but Roy, I don’t think it’ll matter.” Seeing her cry filled him with an overwhelming sense of futility, and he did the only thing he could think of. Roy pulled her into his side and ignored the protesting bruises. “He’s waited too long to get treatment, and I’ve heard him coughing at night.” She looked up at him. “It’s so awful.”

            She hid her face in his neck, and Roy pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I know that’s the stupidest thing to say, but I’m sorry. Tell me what I can do.”

            “There’s nothing.” She sniffled. “Just sit with me for a little bit. I don’t have anyone else I can talk to about it. Just you.” Roy held her tightly and did his best to swallow the lump in his own throat. “If he dies, I’ll be alone. I never thought I’d lose my dad. It seemed unfair on top of everything else.”

            “Riza-”

            “I know I sound really selfish right now. You’ve lost both your parents.”

            Roy pulled back and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “You don’t sound selfish. I’ve had ten years to get past their death and come to terms with what I’ve got in this life. You have almost seventeen years of memories with your dad, and I can’t even imagine what that’s like.”

            “It’s horrible,” she whispered. “I’m so scared, Roy.”

            “Listen to me, you won’t be alone, okay? You have _me_ , and Aunt Chris would never let anything happen to you.”

            She nodded and fell back against him. Roy tried to ignore the horror creeping through him and kept silent as he stroked Riza’s hair.


	7. Chapter 7

            When Roy told her of Berthold Hawkeye’s illness, Chris Mustang reflected that the man had a marvelous talent for keeping secrets. It was a shame his skills extended into denial as well. She wasn’t a medical expert by any definition, but perhaps he wouldn’t have been so felled if he’d had the forethought to seek treatment earlier. Of course, as far as she knew, it could’ve been a death sentence from the starting line. Either way, her heart broke for Riza. A child should never have to lose both parents before reaching adulthood, and of _this_ subject, unfortunately, Chris had firsthand knowledge. It was one thing to be considered of a legal age in the eyes of the law, and Riza would be very soon, but Chris knew it was quite another to possess an adult mind and emotional application.

            Berthold had only been back in Central City for an afternoon before doctors sequestered him to a hospital bed where he drew ragged breaths through tubes and every heartbeat was monitored closely. His daughter had panicked during a violent coughing spell and called for emergency services. Her frantic voice could be heard on the other end of the phone line all the way across the kitchen as she tried to explain to Roy what had happened. Chris wasn’t close, personal friends with Hawkeye, but she knew him as well as a mother might know the father of her son’s - she didn’t even know _what_ Riza was to Roy anymore. Or vice versa. Poking out the boundaries made her uncomfortable; Chris didn’t ever want to be the helicopter type, and Roy’s behavior never warranted it. When she _did_ allow herself to consider their relationship, labeling them as lovers didn't feel quite right. The dynamic hadn’t shifted _that_ much _._ Riza had slept in her nephew’s bed all of twice - the night before her father journeyed home and following the trauma of Hawkeye’s hospitalization. Roy hadn’t wanted to leave her alone.

            Chris thought of herself as less of a pessimist and more of a realist. She didn’t wish death for Berthold Hawkeye, but she did believe it to be an eventuality. In her mind, she had a running checklist of things that needed to be done. Sixteen-year-old girls shouldn’t be left alone in their family home immediately after the death of a parent, and the idea of Riza relinquishing herself to the - even temporary - custody of Mathilda Grumman was damn near laughable. The old woman was exactly the kind of caregiver Chris detested. It was no wonder Elizabeth had run off with Hawkeye and never looked back.

            Riza, having a mind like her father’s, would not stand for a sharp-eyed appraisal by her grandmother. In all likelihood, she’d end up at the Mustang house for a time. There were other, more _appropriate,_ female friends that would surely offer lodging, but Riza wouldn't accept. If given the choice, and Chris refused to interfere with her choices, she would choose to stay with Roy. Whether she allowed it for Riza’s sake or the amusing way Mathilda Grumman’s carefully preened feathers would surely ruffle, she’d never say. A lady has her secrets, and letting the controlling old woman believe what she wanted would be a midnight pleasure.

            Funerals and family were a messy business, and when tragedy struck, Chris was almost happy her entire family consisted of only herself and Roy. It seemed a year for harshness and ruined holidays. Riza’s birthday would certainly be a casualty.

* * *

 

            Roy found Riza alone at a table near the far edge of the pavilion. He’d been late arriving in the cafeteria for lunch, and when he asked about her, Rebecca pointed outside with a sad grimace. “She said she wanted to be alone, and I wasn’t going to push her. Maybe you can get her to talk?”

            He approached the table and stepped over the bench to sit. “Are you okay?” He knew it was a stupid question. Of course she wasn’t okay.

            Riza’s hands were clasped between her knees, and her lunch contents hadn’t been touched at all. She kept her eyes down, hair hanging limply over her shoulders. “I don’t know what _okay_ means anymore.” Roy had to lean in to hear her voice. “I see his things in the laundry baskets, and I can’t bring myself to wash them. If I do, and put them away, what if no one ever takes them out again?”

            Completely at a loss, Roy could do nothing but wrap his arm around her. The days were growing colder, and her skin felt chilled.

            “Did you know my grandmother came to my house last night?”

            “I didn’t.”

            A hollow laugh clawed its way from her throat. “She told me I should prepare for the inevitable, and start to clear out the house.”

            Roy stiffened.

            “I think she wants my dad to die before I turn seventeen so she can get rid of his house and make herself feel better.”

            “ _What?_ But _why?_ How would taking away your family’s home make her feel better?” His grip on her tightened.

            “Maybe in her mind if she can sell off the Hawkeye house, it won’t _be_ the Hawkeye house anymore, and she can pretend I’m my mom reborn or something - a second chance to do things her own way.”

            “Can she really do that?”

            “It depends. I’ve seen my dad’s will, and everything is mine should he die. Until I turn seventeen, though, it sits in trust for whomever is executor. If she sells everything so it benefits my trust, yeah, she could do it.”

            “Holy shit, Riza.”

            “I went to see my dad this morning, Roy. I told him she’d been sniffing around, and he… he promised me he’d live to see my birthday. What a macabre gift, right?”

            Roy’s face twisted as he glanced down at Riza.

            “I hate this. I hate _all_ of this. I hate that my grandmother is such a vulture, and I hate that I’m having these discussions at all when I should be allowed to save every last second with my dad.”

            “What does your grandfather say?”

            She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know. He wasn’t with her yesterday, and I honestly don’t care.”

            “You don’t think maybe he could reign in his wife?”

            “Don’t _you_ think if my grandparents were the reconciling type, my mother wouldn't have spent the rest of her life avoiding them? These aren’t people who care about their family, Roy. Even after my mom died, all they did was glare at my dad at her funeral. Like he’d murdered her in her sleep or something.”

            “I didn’t mean to upset you or bring up painful memories.” Roy didn’t know what to say. This bitter, resentful Riza was new to him.

            “Oh,” she reached out and drew his hand between hers, “I know you didn’t. I don’t know why I’m saying this stuff. It’s not really helping. Earlier today, I made a comment about having my dad cremated with his own alchemy, and Becky looked _so_ uncomfortable. I felt bad afterwards.” Her giggle had a slightly hysterical edge.

            “Geez, Riza.”

            She smiled crookedly up at him. “He wants to see you, you know. My dad. Can you come today?”

            “Of course! My afternoons are wide open, now.”

            This laugh felt more natural. “I told him you hit Jean, and he said he wasn’t surprised.”

            “Doctor Hawkeye has always been far too intuitive for his own good.”

            “I agree. He said some other things too.”

            “Like?”

            Riza smiled genuinely for the first time that day. “I’ll tell you later.” She released his hand and began to peel her orange. “Did you buy my birthday ice cream yet?”

            “Not yet. Still set on that idea, huh?”

            “Absolutely. I convinced Becky to not throw me a party, and she agreed. Probably out of guilt over all this.”

            “Probably. What kind do you want?”

            She popped a wedge of orange into her mouth. “The stuff with the chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla all in one tub.”

            Roy made a face.

            “I like a variety, and it’s _my_ birthday.”

            “Well, I suppose I have some time to brace myself for the unnatural mingling of flavors.”

            “Who says you’re invited to my private party?”

            He scowled down at her, and Riza laughed. “I’m kidding. You’ll be my only guest.”

            “At least no one is going to try and give you underwear on your birthday.”

            She sighed dramatically. “A girl can always dream, right?”

            Roy hardly recognized Doctor Hawkeye. For the first time, he thought the man looked as old as he’d claimed. His eyes were closed and his breaths labored. Riza tugged Roy into the hospital room by his hand. She gently brushed a few wisps of hair from her father’s face and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

            “Dad.”

            The man’s eyelids fluttered open, and he took a moment to focus.

            Riza smiled. “Hey, Dad,” she went on, her voice soft, “I brought Roy to see you.”

            Doctor Hawkeye cleared his throat and reached for the cup of water on the bedside table.

            “Let me.” Riza wrapped his fingers around the cup and stepped back.

            “Thank you, Riza, I’m sorry for napping. I didn’t realize it was so late already.”

            She laughed and sat on the edge of his bed. “You never were very good at keeping time.”

            “I’m a man cursed with a wandering mind.” He turned his tired eyes to Roy. “Well then, Roy, I understand you’ve been under the weather yourself?”

            “It wasn’t too bad, sir. I think my aunt may have gone a little overboard.”

            Hawkeye pushed himself up further in the bed, and Riza helped him adjust his pillows. “I doubt that very much. It was probably best to keep you out of the school where germs can spread at an alarming rate.” He leaned back against the fluffed pillows, and exhaled heavily. “Riza, dear, would you mind filling my water cup, please? I need a moment with Roy.”

            She smiled and pressed her lips to his forehead. “Of course. I’ll be back in a little bit.” Riza squeezed Roy’s hand before leaving him alone with Doctor Hawkeye.

            “Have a seat, son.” He patted the sheet and folded his hands together. “I wish we didn’t have to meet this way, but it couldn’t be helped.”

            “Please don’t apologize, sir. I hate seeing you so ill.”

            “As I told you before, I am an old man. I’ve known about this sickness and its fatality rate for a long time. I feel lucky to have seen my daughter grow as much as I have. I certainly didn’t deserve it.”

            Roy bit his lip. “Maybe not, sir, but I know Riza did.”

            “She deserved more from me.” The man’s eyes were sad as he glanced at the leaves falling from the tree beyond his window. “I wanted you to know I still have faith in your ambitions. Even if I won’t be around to see you through the process, I know you could be accepted to the State Alchemy program. If it’s what you wanted, that is.”

            “I think it is, but I’d hate to-” Roy stumbled over his words, and Hawkeye chuckled.

            “You don’t want to leave her alone here? Is that it?”

            “Yes,” he whispered.

            “I think the biggest mistake would be to not tell her until the last minute. Learn from my errors.”

            “How I am supposed to bring it up _now?_ ”

            Doctor Hawkeye smiled. “You’ll figure it out. I have faith in you, Roy.” His eyes turned back to the window. “I used to think Riza would follow in my footsteps and join the military. Did you know that? She has the temperament for it, certainly.”

            Roy raised an eyebrow. “Riza? In the military?”

            “Now, though,” Hawkeye went on. “I don’t think she would be qualified. That shoulder injury isn’t improving, and she wouldn’t be able to pass the rigorous physical requirements.”

            “She never told me about the shoulder. I can’t figure out how it never came up.”

            “My daughter is far too much like me in some ways. She doesn’t like the people she cares most about to worry.”

            Roy frowned and picked at the bed sheet.

            “You’ll look out for her, won’t you? Even from East City?”

            He looked the old man in the eye and nodded. “I will.”

            Hawkeye nodded, and his eyes slid closed. “I’m afraid I’m wearing out, Roy. I wish I could’ve had more energy for you, but I may doze off.” His lungs rattled with a sigh. “Forgive me.”

            “I can come back anytime, sir.”

            “Of course, of course. That’s fine. I wish-” His hands loosened their grasp on the sheets, and he trailed off mid-sentence. Roy listened to the harsh breathing for a few moments just to be sure he hadn’t just witnessed a death and stood. He was halfway to the door when Doctor Hawkeye spoke again in a quiet rasp. “I wish I’d have gotten the chance to see the two of you happy - as happy as I was a long time ago.”

            Roy looked back, but the man was sleeping now. The words could’ve meant anything. Surely Doctor Hawkeye wasn’t referring to him and Riza as a pair. He stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and plopped down on a bench outside the room to wait for her. Nurses and doctors shuffled past, going about the business of sickness and healing, but Roy’s thoughts circled around Hawkeye’s words. He’d never really considered the idea of _being_ with Riza. Sure she was beautiful, and he wouldn’t even try to deny that an errant thought or two of her in compromising dress and positions had slipped into his head once or twice. But she was his best friend, for fuck’s sake! Their relationship wasn’t like _that._

            _Could_ it be, though? Was he willing to risk damaging the friendship they’d built together over eight years of growing up for… _what?_ A few dates? Kissing? _Sex?_ Roy frowned and stared at his untied shoelaces. The first time he'd made her laugh had been with a ridiculous joke about his failings in remembering to tie them. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

            Roy knew his romantic history, if it could even be called that, was spotted. He’d been with a number of girls physically but only dated a few. Becky, though, he’d really made an effort with her. Being in her company was something he genuinely enjoyed, and having a steady girlfriend turned out to be a happier experience than expected. She was the first girl he’d dated that didn’t prod him about Riza and try to wedge herself between them. Doctor Hawkeye had been right about her needing more attention than he could promise, and he was glad they'd broken up before things got irreparably ugly.

            The idea of pursuing Riza seemed foreign - not unpleasant, but the texture of it was utterly new. She still hadn’t returned, and Roy leaned back against the wall. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine what it might be like to kiss her. Would she taste of the peppermint lip balm he knew she kept in her bag? Would she be surprised he’d have the inclination to kiss her at all? Would she hate it? _Him?_ What if he kissed her before leaving for the military university? Would she even let him after waiting so long to tell her about his desire to leave home? He didn’t want to leave _her_ , but he wanted to do _something_ with his life. The idea of her having someone else in her arms once he was gone felt like a blow to the gut. Roy could almost feel the strands of her hair slipping through his fingers and was overcome with his own idiocy.

            He loved her. Of course he loved her. Somehow, the revelation didn’t feel new.

            “Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

            Roy jumped when he felt Riza’s lips brush his ear.

            She laughed at him. “I wasn’t gone for that long. How on earth could you fall asleep in this noisy hallway?”

            “I’m tired?” he offered lamely. “Your dad nodded off, and I guess it was contagious.”

            The smile slid from her face. “Yeah, he does that sometimes. Did he say whatever he needed to say?”

            Roy ran a hand through his hair. “We had a short chat. I think I might come back tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

            “Of course it’s okay. Let’s get out of here, though. I need a break.”

            He watched through the window as Riza placed the plastic jug of water by her father’s bed and kissed his cheek. He knew soon the man would be dead, and Riza would be alone except for him. Roy didn’t know if that fact made him feel more or less guilty for falling in love with his best friend at the worst moment possible.

            The evening of Riza’s birthday came softly. School had been uneventful, and Roy was a little envious she’d made it through her day so peacefully. His own birthday had been a personal nightmare. She’d spent the afternoon with Doctor Hawkeye in the hospital and now sat next to him on her sofa, flipping through television channels and sucking on a spoon. Instead of her awful taste in ice cream, Roy opted for supplying his own candy.

            “How can you even tell what’s on, speeding through the channels like that? I feel like I’m getting motion sickness.”

            She gave him a withering glance and went back to her flipping.

            “And not that it’ll make much of a difference, but your ice cream is melting.”

            “You are full of opinions tonight, Roy. I can’t say it’s a good thing.”

            “My apologies. Please continue letting everything melt together and flying through the programming at the speed of light.”

            Riza stopped on a random channel and tossed the remote aside. She dipped her spoon into a mound of strawberry and studied him. “I think you’re jealous that I’m doing exactly what I want on my birthday and you got crotchless panties in a box.”

            “That was a low blow, Riza Hawkeye.”

            She shrugged. “The truth is a hard pill to swallow sometimes.”

            “I knew I should have gotten you the ice cream with the nuts in it.”

            “I’m allergic to nuts, you jerk.”

            “I know,” Roy winked and poked her ribs, “Your tongue would swell up and stop the sarcasm that seems to be flowing from your mouth tonight.”

            “Some best friend you are.” Riza scowled and set her soupy mess aside. “Tell me what you and my dad have been discussing in your secret, after-school, boys-only club.”

            Roy chewed on his candy slowly. He didn’t want to have this discussion yet. His newly unearthed feelings for her weren’t ready to be put on display. When he opened his mouth to deflect, the phone rang shrilly from the kitchen. Riza rolled her eyes and left him alone on the sofa.

            He heard her answer the phone and the sound of shattering stoneware sent him running to the kitchen. Ice cream remnants mixed with bits of broken bowl lay on the tile floor, and Riza stared at him with eyes leaking fat tears. She held the phone in her hand but didn’t seem to realize it was there anymore.

            “What is it?” Roy whispered, though he felt he already knew the answer.

            “My dad,” Riza choked out, “He’s dead.”


	8. Chapter 8

            Ling Yao was probably the only cab driver in all of Central City who enjoyed the rain. It made him feel like his vehicle was a haven of quietude in a tumultuous universe. Fares seemed much more interesting with their dripping coats and umbrellas. _How ‘bout this rain, huh?_ was a standard question, and everyone had a different answer - how much they’d like to just go home or an explanation of how they ended up in the storm… the variety pleased him. Ling was a people person. He loved to be out in the world interacting and, sometimes, simply watching.

            As a Xingese expatriate he wasn’t a stranger to rain. The wet season in his home country went on for weeks at a time, and these winter storms in Central City weren’t even a blip on his radar. The cold, though... he could do without the frigid temperatures. Most of his evening was spent carting patrons of one bar or another home or to a second location. He didn’t mind these half-drunk fares, but the extroverted side of him longed for something interesting.

            Earlier that day, he’d had to listen to an irate customer’s tirade about the inconveniences of funeral processions. _Why are funerals so special?_ she’d complained. _It’s all so ridiculous! They’re dead and do not care who arrives late or on time!_ Ling hadn’t agreed or disagreed; he’d simply listened to her ranting and wondered who on earth had the audacity to be buried on such a bleary day. The rain hadn’t been the raging storm that fell on the city now but simply swirled about in a depressing mist. The woman went on bleating without a care as to whether her driver was actually listening. Ling counted twenty cars in the procession. There was even a military vehicle with window flags rippling violently in the wind.

            His night was beginning to be outright boring until dispatch directed him to an address in the upper crust residential area of Central City. The bulk of Ling’s business was limited to urban areas, and the thought of something new excited him. He pulled up to the curb at the foot of the property, and through the rain, saw a young blonde girl rushing at his car. She clutched an umbrella and seemed to be clad only in a thin jacket, what appeared to be a nightgown, and rain boots. She shut the car door quickly and wrapped her arms around her body. Ling switched the heater on and pointed the vents towards the back seat.

            The girl couldn’t have been more than a teenager, and she spoke only to confirm her destination address. Ling’s curiosity wasn’t abated in the slightest upon recognizing the location. Most of his fares came stumbling out of a bar owned by Chris Mustang, but he’d never been to her private home before. He yearned to ask this girl what business she had with the woman but knew when to keep his mouth shut. The stray tears she’d wiped from her cheeks hadn’t escaped his attention, and Ling may have been many things, but he wasn’t rude.

            When he pulled into the Mustang driveway, the girl reached into her pocket and produced a wad of cash. She instructed him to keep all of it and exited the car. It wasn’t the largesse of the tip that made Ling wait until she was safely inside the house before pulling away; her disparity had touched him. He wouldn’t be able to look himself in the eye if the next day he heard a radio report of a young girl coming to harm wearing nothing but rain boots and a nightgown.

* * *

 

            Roy peeked through the floor-length window framing the front door and quickly pulled it open. Riza stood shivering in the rain, and for a moment, all he could do was stare. She hadn’t called or anything, and her presence was baffling. When he recovered, he reached out and dragged her into the house.

            “What are you doing here? _Please_ tell me you didn’t walk in this weather!”

            She trembled as he divested her of the umbrella. “I took a cab.”

            “Riza, you should’ve called me! And,” he stepped back to look her over, “what the hell are you wearing? It’s freezing outside.”

            “I- I didn’t think. I’m sorry. I just-”

            Roy cringed as she burst into tears.

            “I had to get out, Roy. I couldn’t stay there with _them_.”

            His heart crumbled as Riza stood in the foyer soaking wet, still in her pink plaid rain boots. “It’s fine, okay?” He steadied her and pointed at her feet. “Just take those off, and we’ll get you some dry clothes. I’m not upset with you.”

            Riza nodded and followed him up the stairs, leaving the shoes behind. Roy led her to the guest room and dug through the dresser drawers. He handed her a pair of fleece pajama pants and a t-shirt.

            “Vanessa was taller than you, but I think this stuff’ll work. You can use the bathroom in here, okay?” Roy guided her to the guest bath and turned to leave.

            She grabbed his wrist, eyes wide. “Where are you going?”

            “Uh, well I was going to-”

            Riza was shaking her head, and her grip strong.

            “I’ll just wait for you out here. Is that better?”

            She nodded and shut herself in the bathroom. Roy sank down onto the guest bed and scrubbed his face with shaking hands. He had no idea what had sent his otherwise rationally-thinking friend running off into the night. Not only was such an action dangerous to her person, but the weather could be unforgiving in a storm.

            When Riza emerged from the bathroom, she looked dryer and more appropriately clothed but no better. He patted the bed beside him, and she curled into him. “You were right,” she whispered, “I should have called.”

            “And put on more clothes.”

            Her laugh wasn’t the humorous kind. _“And put on better clothes.”_

            “I thought your grandparents were staying with you tonight. What happened?”

            Riza sighed loudly. “My grandmother opened her mouth again. She thinks I should move in with them and let her take over my life.”

            “She can’t make you do anything, Riza. You’re technically an adult now.”

            “I know that, and _she_ knows that, but it didn’t stop her from saying whatever she wanted. I didn’t get angry until she made a negative comment about my dad and how I was acting just like him.” Her fists tightened in the fleece of her pants.

            “Your grandfather didn’t stop her?”

            “He tried, but he’s kind of soft spoken, I guess. She’s clearly the dominating one in their house. Anyway, I lost my temper, and there was some shouting. She went on to say I’m basically everything that was wrong with my parents in a different body.”

            “Wow.”

            “That’s when I grabbed my jacket and left. If my boots and umbrella hadn’t already been by the front door, I wouldn’t have thought to grab them. The money I paid the cab driver I found in my dad’s coat pocket.” She looked up at him and tried to smile. “I didn’t think they’d take a credit card.”

            “Well, I’m glad you came, and I’m even more glad you didn’t wind up with a driver who was a creep. That jacket was really the worst, and your nightgown hid absolutely nothing.”

            Riza’s face flushed red, and she turned into his shoulder. “I didn’t even think about any of that, to be honest.”

            “Are you hungry? Thirsty? Tell me what I can do.”

            “I’m just tired. I’d like to go to sleep, if that’s okay?” She yawned and glanced at the bed behind her.

            “Of course. I didn’t mean to keep you awake after such a shitty day.” Roy stood and pulled the decorative pillows from the bed. Riza turned the blankets down and crawled beneath them.

            “Did you think the funeral was okay?” she whispered as Roy switched the lamp off.

            “I think your dad would be proud of you, Riza. It couldn’t have been any better.”

            “I wish the sun could’ve come out, even if just for a moment.” Her eyelids drooped, and she struggled to keep them open.

            “You can’t help the weather, regardless of what your grandmother thinks.” Roy bristled at the memory of Mathilda Grumman’s complaints. The rain hadn’t been in the forecast when the service was planned, and she acted as if the wetness had been a personal insult.

            “She’s just a grumpy old cow,” Riza mumbled.

            He chuckled and grabbed the doorknob. “Get some sleep, okay? Maybe the sun will come out tomorrow.”

            “I doubt it,” he heard her say as he pulled the door shut.

            Roy would’ve thrown himself on his bed if it weren’t covered in papers. He’d been sifting through the pile of forms and missives that came in his application packet for the military university when Riza arrived. Now he felt too distracted to even glance them over. He blew a lungful of air heavenward and gathered the mess into a single stack just before an earth-shattering crack of thunder made him jump, sending the papers falling to a pile on the floor. Roy leaned down to gather them, and when he stood, he leapt back into the edge of his desk.

            “Fuck, Riza, you scared me! You can’t sneak up on a guy like that!”

            “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, clutching a box of tissues. “The thunder scared me, too.”

            Roy exhaled and placed the rumpled papers on his desk. “Don’t be sorry. I just didn’t hear you come in.”

            “Can I sleep in here with you? I don’t want to be alone.”

            He wouldn’t have turned her away anyway, but the expression on her face ruined him.

            “Yeah, I was just going to sleep. Come on.” Roy felt embarrassed that his bed wasn’t in the pristine shape the guest bed had been and tried to straighten his blankets. Riza didn’t seem to notice and simply slid between the sheets without commenting. He pulled the lamp cord, and the room fell into semi-darkness with only the light from the hallway glowing yellow under his door.

            “I think today was the worst day of my life,” Riza whispered into the night.

            “I wish I had words to make this better.” He reached out and pulled her closer.

            She tucked herself against his body. “There aren’t any.”

            Roy felt her finger brush the healing scab on his lip and hoped she couldn’t hear his heart thudding in his chest.

            “Does it still hurt?”

            “Only a little,” he breathed.

            Her touch was feather light, and he froze when he felt her lips press to the spot Havoc’s fist had split open. She pulled back only a fraction and met his eyes briefly before kissing him. Her lips were soft and tentative. Roy didn’t hesitate as much as he later felt he should have before returning her kiss, and Riza responded instantly. Her hands gathered in his shirt and held him against her as their lips slid against one another. Much like with the fight in the library, he didn’t think, only acted. Everything about her invaded his senses, and all he could focus on was his mouth on hers.

            Not until he heard her whimper beneath him and felt the skin of her hip in his palm did Roy have discernible thoughts. He pulled back from her and sat up in the bed. “Riza, we can’t do this.”

            She sat up beside him and pressed her forehead to the back of his shoulder.

            “ _I_ can’t do this. Not when you’re so upset, and not so soon after-”

            “I know,” she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

            Roy turned to face her. “I couldn’t take it if you regretted me in the morning.” He could see her smile sadly and swing her legs over the side of the bed.

            “Do you want me to go?”

            “Of course not. I want you to sleep.” Roy pulled her back down onto the pillows, and she lay facing away from him.

            “Tell me everything is going to be okay,” he heard her murmur into the darkness.

            His arm circled her waist, and Riza backed against his chest.

            “I promise it will be.” Roy was glad she couldn’t see his face. He hid his nose in her hair and closed his eyes. So many things were _not_ okay, and even though his body still hummed from kissing her, he felt afraid.

            When morning came, the sun crept across the bed slowly, and Roy took his time waking. Riza still smelled of rain and the fabric softener his aunt used. Memories of her lips pressing against his clouded his mind, and he became quite aware of her closeness… and _his problem._ As quickly as possible, Roy disentangled himself from Riza and dashed to his bathroom. His behavior the night before had been terrible enough without her waking to _that._

            Riza was gone from the bed when he emerged from his bathroom, and he felt almost glad. There would be no hiding the glassy eyes following a morning rub-out. Roy pulled his shirt off and pawed through a pile of clean clothes for a replacement. He stumbled back into his desk in surprise, again, when his aunt entered the room unexpectedly. His hip ached, and he scowled.

            “Does anyone in this house know how to knock?”

            Chris smirked. “Were you busy?”

            “No! But I _could’ve_ been!”

            “Lucky me.” She leaned against the door frame. “Riza is downstairs. Want to talk about it?”

            Roy sighed and tugged the clean shirt on. “She showed up here late last night in the rain, and I gave her some dry clothes. I didn’t know what else to do. Should I have sent her home?”

            “No, it’s fine that she stayed. You know I don’t mind, but do her grandparents know she’s here at all? I saw the wet clothes in the guest bath. It doesn’t look like a whole lot of planning was put into this visit.”

            “There wasn’t. She got into it with old lady Grumman and just left, I guess. She said she took a cab here. I don’t know, but she looked upset.”

            “I see. Well, make sure she knows not to call any more damn cabs. It’s a waste, and dangerous for young girls in wet nightgowns.”

            “I told her that, too.”

            Chris nodded and moved to leave. “I’m going to sleep. Try to get her to eat something, okay? I’m sure she’s still staring out the window and ignoring breakfast.”

            “I’ll handle it.”

            She left him alone, and Roy changed into clean socks and pants. He didn’t make an effort to shut the door since no one _ever_ bothered to knock anyway. He found Riza at the kitchen table, exactly as his aunt had left her. A muffin sat untouched on a napkin, and her eyes were focused on the rain still falling beyond the window. “You should eat something.”

            “I know.” Riza made no moves to comply.

            “Aunt Chris is worried about you.” He grabbed a muffin for himself from the tin and took a seat across from her.

            “She doesn’t need to be worried; I’m just not hungry.”

            “People eat in the mornings. It’s kind of a thing.”

            Riza sighed and frowned at the muffin.

            “There’s no nuts in it, I promise.”

            “Is she mad I just showed up last night?”

            “Nope,” Roy said around a mouthful of muffin. “You can stay here however long you want, but I’ve been instructed to tell you no more late night cab rides in thin pajamas.”

            Riza smiled. “I guess that was a stupid idea. Could you take me home today so I can get some things? I don’t think I want to be alone at night yet.” She scowled. “I’m _not_ selling my house, but I need some time away.”

            “We can go as soon as you finish eating.”

            “Are we at the bargaining stage now?” Her grin was sarcastic, but she did eat the muffin.

            The drive to the Hawkeye house was silent. Riza stared out of the passenger window, and Roy couldn’t keep his thoughts from drifting back to the night before. He tried but failed. Kissing her had been so much more than he imagined, and in the last couple of weeks, he’d imagined a _lot._

            When he pulled into the driveway, the Grumman’s black town car was still parked out front, and Riza groaned. “I suppose it was too much to expect them to be gone.”

            Roy grabbed the umbrella and held it above them both on the trek up the long front walk. Under the cover of the front porch, he shook the droplets off and leaned it against a bench.

            “I can go in with you, if you want.”

            Riza chewed her lip and shook her head. “No, I need to do this on my own. Grandmother will respect me more, I think.”

            “Alright. I’ll be back around sunset to pick you up, okay? _Promise_ me you’ll call if you want to come sooner.”

            She laughed lightly and stepped toward him. “I _promise_.”

            Roy sucked in a deep breath when she took his hand and threaded her fingers through his. “Listen, Roy, about last night. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

            He shook his head. “Riza-”

            “No, just listen. I’m sorry for the poor timing, but I’m not sorry for doing it. I want you to know-” She looked up at him, and Roy’s mouth went dry. “I could _never_ regret you. And maybe when there’s been some space between _all this_ -” Riza sighed and gestured toward the house. “And _us_ , you could think of me?”

            Roy pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “Riza, I _already_ think of you.” He stepped even close to her and slid his free hand around her waist. “Take all the space you need, okay? I’ll wait for you.” Before he could consider whether it was a good idea or not, Roy brushed his lips against hers lightly. Riza’s grip on his hand tightened, and she kissed him once more before pulling away. Her smile made him feel light-headed.

            “I should go deal with my family,” she whispered.

            “Yeah, you should. I’ll be back tonight.” He nearly stumbled over his shoelaces making it down the porch steps and back to his car. Her soft giggle stuck with him the rest of the afternoon.


	9. Chapter 9

            Gordon Grumman massaged his temples with weathered fingers. The situation with his granddaughter and wife had spiraled spectacularly out of control, and he felt completely powerless in its wake. He absolutely hated these types of. The animosity brewing within him towards Berthold had died down soon after Elizabeth’s death, and he’d wanted nothing more than to reach out to the man and the little girl left behind. Mathilda, however, had been stewing in a slurry of hatred, resentment, and unacknowledged guilt for years. She’d never forgiven her daughter for choosing to be with a man she didn’t approve of, and somehow, that blame bubbled over onto Riza.

            Mathilda hadn’t wanted him to sit on the board of trustees at the academy. She’d accused him of passive aggressively spying on his granddaughter, and he supposed, in a way, she was right. Berthold hadn’t hidden Riza away from them, but he also hadn’t made it clear the doors were open for communication. Riza, being only nine at the time, didn’t have the presence of mind to reach out to them either. News came to him in patchwork form - only brief letters from Hawkeye, and once the girl had befriended the Mustang boy, Gordon had turned to Chris Mustang for information. He'd frequented her high-end lounge uptown for years, and the woman was frustratingly reluctant to divulge such personal information, but she assured him Riza wasn’t alone in her grief.

            As Riza grew older, Gordon’s guilt compounded, and crossing the void became more impossible. Quietly, he’d followed his granddaughter’s accomplishments with a greater ease once he had the privileges of a sitting board member. Without Mathilda’s knowledge, he attended her archery tournaments and sat quietly in the back row when Riza took the podium to argue politics and social policy during academic debates. He wanted to aid her success in any way possible. Even a retired general, such as himself, still had a few strings at his disposal to pull, and pull them he would.

            He knew that his wife’s behavior would only hold so much explanation of his own lack of action, and Gordon’s heart thudded in anticipation of the day when he’d ignore her completely to finally make things right. Shutting Elizabeth out had been the wrong thing to do, and he regretted it every single day. So what if he hadn’t approved of the older man who’d romanced his daughter? Berthold wasn’t the negative influence he’d believed him to be, and her death couldn’t be placed on him. Cancer was indiscriminate, and despite Hawkeye’s one-track-mindedness, Elizabeth was good at keeping secrets. In all likelihood, she’d ignored her symptoms and hidden them well. The real victim of it all was Riza.

            Berthold Hawkeye’s funeral had been beautifully miserable, and Gordon couldn’t fully verbalize the gratefulness he felt towards Roy Mustang for supporting Riza the way he had. The way he _had been_ for so long. The images of his granddaughter quietly sobbing under the protection of a black umbrella broke his heart. The only bandage on the wound being Roy’s arm securing her to his side stoically, silently absorbing her sadness. He seemed a pro, and it came as no surprise. It was, in fact, the second death of a parent he’d been present for.

Rumor had it the boy had an eye on the State Alchemy program, and if his marks in chemistry proved accurate, Gordon knew he’d make the cut; his close association with the formerly renowned state alchemist Berthold Hawkeye practically reserved him a position. After recent, explosive events, Riza probably believed Roy to be her only family left, and he wondered if she knew her friend would be leaving within the year. Gordon didn’t want to take the sinister route and step in to pick up those pieces. That would make him the passive aggressive old gossip his wife claimed. He wanted to be a part of Riza’s life, not a wedge in the middle of it. The idea of her coming to him in a state of desperate sadness when Roy left made him feel sick to his stomach.

            A series of decisions were made in his mind, and Gordon knew he’d be on his own to execute them. He’d have no help from his wife, and in a way, it made him feel all the more resolute. Bridges may have been burned in the past, but he _would_ rebuild. For the sake of what family he had left, he would make them even stronger than before.

* * *

 

            Roy pulled into the Hawkeye driveway and slid the key from the ignition. “Are you happy you went back today?”

            “Yeah, I think it was time. I can’t sit sequestered in a tower forever.” Riza smiled thinly at him and grabbed her book bag. “Want to come in for a minute? Solaris made enough food to feed an army last night, and I know you’ll forget to eat when you go home.”

            “I never say no to food made by Solaris. She’s a magician.” Roy grinned eagerly and stepped from the car.

            “I’ll tell her you said so. I think she misses my dad quite a bit.” Riza led the way up the front walk, kicking clumps of lingering snow as she went, and hesitated before entering her house. It had a hollow, empty feeling now, and he knew she felt it every time she walked through the front door.

            He placed a hand on her shoulder. “She worries about you, too, you know.”

            “She does, and I appreciate it.” Riza tossed her bag in an armchair and made her way through the house to the kitchen. Roy followed and averted his eyes when she left her button-up, uniform shirt draped over a dining chair. The camisole she wore underneath was incredibly _distracting_. Of course, he shed his own top when he walked out of the academy doors every afternoon, but Roy highly doubted his undershirt was as flattering as Riza’s.

            Since he’d last kissed her on the porch the rainy day following Doctor Hawkeye’s funeral, they hadn’t taken any steps closer to one another. She stuck to his side more than usual, slept at his house, and shadowed him at school all day, but considering her father’s death, none of that felt out of the ordinary. Roy had meant what he’d said about Riza taking the space she needed and didn’t feel the need to push. The last thing he wanted was a grief-ridden fumble in the dark and no best friend left when it was over.

            As expected, the leftover roast was the epitome of perfection. Solaris had a way of quenching his lust for a well-prepared meal. His aunt was a fair cook, but the Hawkeye family chef was a master. Roy sat back in his chair. “Do you think Solaris would marry me? I need meals like this in my life on a daily basis.”

            Riza laughed and grabbed his empty bowl. “I think I might have something to say about that, and I’m afraid she isn’t the cougar type.”

            “I bet I could convince her. I can be _very_ charming.”

            The snort from the sink could be heard above the running water. “That’s a generous use of the word _charming_.” Riza cut the water off, and he opened his mouth to reply, but she interrupted him. “ _Oh, hell._ Of all the days to show up.”

            “What?” He joined her at the kitchen window that overlooked the driveway. A black town car inched its way toward the house, and he glanced at Riza, who visibly bristled at the sight. “Looks like it’s just your grandfather today. Do you want me to go?”

            She turned to him, frowning. “No. No, you don’t have to leave. I want you to stay.” She looked out the window over her shoulder at the man making his way to the front door. “I’m curious why he’s here alone.”

            The doorbell chimed, and Riza grabbed her uniform shirt. Roy trailed behind her to the door and pulled her hair free from the white collar. Despite her annoyance, there was a smile on her face when she greeted her grandfather. To Roy’s surprise, the man seemed affable and even had a polite hello for him.

            “Riza, dear, I apologize for stopping by with no notice, but I wanted to have a chat without any-” Grumman cleared his throat. “Well, without any upset, if that makes sense to you?”

            Riza smirked and showed her grandfather to the front sitting room. “I know what you mean.”

            The older man sat in an armchair, and Roy joined Riza on the couch.

            “What can I do for you?” She smoothed the pleats of her skirt, and he noted her hands shook a little.

            “I just wanted to clear the air on some things, to be quite honest.” He took a deep breath and grimaced. “First off, I’d like to apologize for your grandmother. I won’t make excuses for her at all; Mathilda's ways can be deplorable at times, but I want you to know her opinions are not the consensus.”

            “I see,” Riza said quietly.

            “I don’t want you to think her animosity is a reflection of how I feel about your parents or you. I admit it’s been my own cowardice that kept me distant after the death of your mother, and now, I can’t stay away.” He studied his hands for a long moment before looking up at Riza. “Has anyone ever told you how much you resemble Elizabeth? It’s remarkable.”

            Her cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink, and she looked away. “My dad may have mentioned it once or twice. I think it made things harder for him when she died.”

            “I know Berthold loved my daughter, and there were many times I wanted to repair the damage, but I didn’t. It was wrong of me, and I deeply apologize for any pain that may have caused you.”

            Roy shifted uncomfortably on the couch. He felt like he was intruding on a private moment. Riza reached over and grasped his arm in a calming gesture.

            Grumman smiled at him and leaned forward. “You must be Roy Mustang. I’ve met your aunt on occasion. She can be a… _formidable_ woman.”

            Roy laughed, unable to tamp his reaction down in time. “Yes, sir, she can be that and many other things.”

            Grumman turned his eyes back to his granddaughter. “I’d like it if we could spend some time together. Get to know one another?” He quickly added, “If that’s what you’d like, of course. I don’t want to pressure you.”

            “I,” Riza heaved an exhale, “I’d like that very much, Grandfather. You’re welcome to dinner here any time.”

            “So you cook for yourself then?”

            Again, Roy couldn’t contain his laughter. Riza glared at him and squeezed his arm harshly. “No, Dad employed a professional. I’m keeping her on.”

            He cleared his throat when Riza’s fingernails dug into his skin. “Sorry.” He stood and pried himself from her grasp. “I think I need something to drink.”

            “Yes, I think that’s probably a good idea.”

            Roy felt her angry gaze on him until he made it to the kitchen. He hadn’t meant to laugh at her, but she was really just as much of a culinary disaster as her father had been. He suspected Solaris’s job security was stronger than anyone else’s in Amestris.

            He sipped his water silently and watched Gordon Grumman walk back down toward his car with a good deal less tension than when he’d arrived.

            “That went well.” Riza leaned against the kitchen door frame and crossed her arms.

            “Your grandmother must be terrifying. He looked pretty remorseful.”

            “Maybe to him she’s terrifying. To me, she’s just a mean old lady who still can’t get over things that happened ages ago.”

            Roy placed his water glass in the sink. “Are you happy he came by?”

            Riza didn’t say anything but simply returned to the sitting room.

            When he followed, Roy found her sprawled out on the couch. He fell into a chair and watched the thoughts play out on her face.

            “Yeah, I think so. I’ve always been curious about my grandparents. Finding out how crazy Grandmother is was disappointing, but he seems alright.” She yawned and rolled over on her side. “Today has been exhausting.”

            “I’m going to go home and get some homework done. You should take a nap.”

            Riza hummed and grabbed the afghan from the back of the couch. She pulled it over her body only halfway and struggled to unfold it without opening her eyes. Roy chuckled and pulled it away from her to help straighten it out.

            “Thanks,” she mumbled, “but just so you know, that doesn’t make up for laughing at my cooking skills.”

            A strangled laugh caught in Roy’s throat. “I’m really sorry, Riza, but I couldn’t help it.”

            “Sure. I’m sleeping in the guest bed tonight.”

            Her comment hit home. “Aw, come on! It wasn’t that bad! Am I really being punished? That’s harsh.”

            Riza covered her head with the blanket and turned her back to him.

            “You’re going to send me away while you’re mad, huh?”

            She didn’t respond, only pulled the blanket tighter around herself. Roy sighed and stretched out on the narrow couch next to her. He worked his arms around the lump of her body and pressed his face into the crocheted yarn. “Don’t be angry, Riza. I’m sure you’re a fantastic cook.”

            Riza yanked the blanket from her face and turned to him. “Now you’re just being stupid. You _know_ I’m awful in the kitchen, but I have to punish this affront to my womanhood somehow.”

            “Being good with cooking is what makes you a woman?” Roy quirked an eyebrow. “I wish I'd known that before falling so madly in love with you.”

            Riza’s eyes went wide, and a smile played at the edges of her lips.

            Roy’s face burned with a raging heat. He hadn’t meant to say that. “I, uh-”

            Riza bumped her nose against his. “Don’t ruin it with more talking, Roy.” She touched his red cheek and pressed her lips lightly against the hot skin before kissing him fully. When she pulled back, she bit her lip and grinned deviously. Her hands braced against his chest and pushed him off the edge of the couch. “Go home and do your homework. I require a nap now.” Riza rolled back over to face the couch. “You can pick me up at sunset.”

            Roy could do nothing but stare for a moment before collecting himself. “Right. Sunset. Of course.” He stumbled out of the house with a red face and the memory of her kiss.

            Riza followed through on her promise to sleep in the guest bed. It was the last night she spent in the Mustang house.

            The final day of school before winter break, Roy found Riza dining alone in the pavilion during lunch. The snow had been falling all morning, and the outdoor heaters were barely keeping the flakes from accumulating near the dining area. She was the only student choosing to eat in the frigid weather, and Roy grumbled to himself as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat.

            “Have you lost your mind? It’s freezing out here!” Roy sat on the bench next to her and leaned back against the table.

            She only smiled and shrugged.

            “You aren’t even in pants! Those leggings can’t be very warm.”

            “They’re wool, and I’m fine. It’s beautiful out there, isn’t it?” She gazed beyond the edge of the pavilion at the collecting drifts of snow. “My dad loved winter.”

            “So you get your crazy from him, then. Clearly.”

            Riza rolled her eyes and packed away the remains of her lunch. “You’re just a summer boy, Roy.”

            “I like to be warm, if that’s what you mean. Come inside. _Please?”_

“In a minute.” She balanced her chin on a gloved hand and sighed. “They finally cleaned out his classroom, you know? I went through a few of the boxes last night and found some stuff I think he wanted you to have.”

            Roy glanced over at her from the puff of his jacket. “What kind of stuff?”

            “Chemistry stuff. Alchemy stuff. I have no use for it, and it’s obvious he meant it to be yours. I’m starting to think he prepared for his death long before telling me he was sick.”

            “Are you okay?”

            Riza smiled. “I’m fine.” She swung her legs over the bench and turned to face the building. “You can pick through the boxes after school. Unless you have plans?”

            “Not a single one. But if you expect me to not be a block of ice by the end of the day, I have to insist we go in now.”

            She threw her trash into a bin and tugged him to his feet. “Come on then, you big whiner. Let’s get you defrosted.”

            “Make fun all you want, but it’ll be you to chip me out of my casing should I freeze.”

            “Nah, I’ll just plant my block of Roy in front of the fire and let you thaw naturally. That way I won’t damage any important parts.” Her face was serious, but he could hear the laughter in her voice.

            “You’re wasting your time in history and politics. Clearly you’ve missed your calling as a comedienne.”

            “Think so? I guess I should change my field of study then.” Riza laughed and pushed him through the door. Roy sighed happily as a blast of hot air blew over his face.

            The Hawkeye driveway had been coated in sand that crunched under their boots. Ice was a danger due to the slope of the property, and Roy was grateful Riza remembered to have such things taken care of. His aunt handled the maintenance of their property, and he didn’t even take notice. The fact that Riza handled her own affairs so efficiently impressed him greatly. She’d seemed much happier since the visit from her grandfather and took to having him for dinner three times a week. Her grandmother only made an appearance on Sundays, and though Riza assured him her sharp edges had been dulled, the one dinner every seven days was enough for everyone.

            “Oh, wow,” Roy exclaimed as he tugged off his scarf and coat. The front room was crowded with stacks of boxes that contained Doctor Hawkeye’s property from his classroom. Some had been sealed with red tape, and Roy assumed those had been removed from the office Hawkeye kept locked. The academy wasn’t keen on violating the privacy of the offices of its teachers, and Berthold had been a highly regarded employee.

            Riza stepped around the scattered boxes and gestured widely. “Yeah, it’s a mess. I was hoping you could help me go through it and decide what’s important and what’s just miscellaneous nonsense.”

            “I doubt your dad kept any miscellaneous nonsense.”

            Riza frowned and reached for a tattered notebook. “I don’t know about that. This appears to be a book of herbal tea recipes. I’d hardly consider that groundbreaking.” She handed the book to Roy, and he thumbed through the pages.

            “Riza, this isn’t herbal tea recipes or anything of the sort.” His eyes were wide, and he sank onto the couch. “It’s alchemic code.”

            She sat next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder. “So it makes sense to you? That’s good. So much of this stuff is the same kind of thing.”

            Roy scanned page after page in wonder. “This is complicated stuff, very advanced. I’m impressed. I had no idea he still worked with alchemy arrays.” He glanced over at her. “It’s kind of illegal right now.”

            “I know. We’ve been discussing the legislation in my government class. I don’t think private alchemy will be illegal for long. It’s suppression, and there’s a lobbyist movement against it.”

            “I don’t think your dad would want anyone to know he had this material. Are you sure it’s okay for me to see it?”

            Riza smiled. “I think you’re the only person he would have wanted to see it, Roy. I’m tired of tiptoeing around his things. There’s also a packet with your name on it. I didn’t look inside, but it’s obviously for you.”

            “I’m a little overwhelmed by all of this. My knowledge is so basic right now.”

            Riza patted his arm and slid the book from his hands.

            “Do you know what else I’m tired of?”

            Roy sighed and looked down at her. “What?”

            “Space. I’ve had enough space, Roy.”

            His heart stuttered, and when she lifted herself to straddle his lap, Roy had nowhere to put his hands but on her hips.

            “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

            His tongue felt too big for his mouth. “No, I haven’t.”

            Riza smiled and pressed her body against his chest. “Good.” She kissed him forcefully and wrapped her arms around his neck. Roy gripped her hips and let her set the pace. She did, indeed, taste of peppermint lip balm, and he moaned embarrassingly the first time her tongue brushed against his. The moment seemed surreal, as they’d been dancing around each other for months, but her hands sliding beneath the hem of his undershirt were a reminder that Riza was definitely in his lap, and she was absolutely kissing him.

            A growl from his stomach sobered the moment, and Riza giggled against his lips. “Did you skip the eating part of lunch again today?”

            He cleared his throat and tried to compose himself. “I may have.”

            Riza sighed and sat back on his thighs. “I suppose I should feed you. I can’t have my boyfriend starving to death on my watch.”

            “Am I your boyfriend now?”

            She kissed him once more and gave him a stern glare. “Of course. I have to label you somehow, even if that title doesn’t quite fit the bill.”

            “It doesn’t?”

            “You could never _just_ be my boyfriend, Roy.” Riza disentangled herself and stood. “Come on, Solaris was here last night. She made some kind of pasta thing, and I know she’s the only woman you love almost as much as me.”

            “I can’t help it, Riza. She lured me in with food.”

            Riza pulled him to his feet and smiled. “It’s lucky she works for me and not some other girl then, huh?”

            “Very lucky,” Roy mumbled before pulling her against his chest for another kiss.


	10. Chapter 10

            Headmaster Bradley glanced over the stack of missives in front of him. He felt as pleased as he could be during work hours. The crest of the Eastern University of Military Application shone in the overhead lighting, and the green and gold dragon seemed to wink up at him. He was finally getting rid of Roy Mustang - a year early, no less - and Bradley practically oozed satisfaction. He decided he could feel a bit prideful as well. After all, it had been _his_ brilliant idea to bring Berthold Hawkeye into the academy fold, and without that close tutelage, Mustang would likely be nothing but a blip in the athletic department.

            Central Amestris Academy had churned out several State Alchemists over the years, but everyone knew Doctor Hawkeye’s skills were singular. Mustang was the closest thing to an apprentice as the law allowed, and Bradley was eager to take the credit that would come along with his state certification. Elemental alchemy wasn’t exactly new. Several years prior, Isaac McDougal employed ice, and the Armstrong boy, Alex, had a proficiency with earth and stone, but Hawkeye had a way with fire. Flames were regal and respectable. _And fearsome_.

            The academy would be losing three students to the university before they saw the graduation stage. Alex and Olivier Armstrong and Mustang. The rarity of a student unaffiliated with alchemy being accepted to the university early was well known, but Olivier Armstrong displayed cunning intelligence, and it was clear she’d be groomed for leadership. Bradley thought it a disappointment Maes Hughes had declined to apply despite his generous offer for a personal recommendation. With a disgusted curl of his lip, Bradley suspected the decision had something to do with the female student, Gracia Munoz. Hughes could be seen at any time between classes positively doting on the girl. An egregious waste, in his opinion. Another stunning loss for the military was Riza Hawkeye. Her shoulder injury stood in the way of any career involving strenuous physical activity of the upper body. He’d looked over her medical records himself and came to the same conclusion as the vetting committee: despite her impeccable eyesight and aim, she wasn’t fit for service.

            Bradley sifted through the applications one last time before nodding to himself. He was required to interview each student personally prior to submitting the packets, and the process was tedious. The Armstrong children’s family name spoke for itself, and he had no desire to spend any private moments conversing with Roy Mustang.

            He stood from his desk and straightened his blazer. The end of the school year couldn’t arrive soon enough, and winter break only served to remind him how right his wife’s insistence on retirement had been. Mornings spent at home were far preferable to endless days at a desk dictating the lives of teenagers. Perhaps he’d make that move sooner rather than later.

* * *

 

            Roy inwardly groaned when Jean Havoc plopped himself into the chair next to him. The academy administrative offices bustled with morning activity, and he’d been perfectly happy staring at the ceiling tiles and avoiding the sharp gaze of Olivier Armstrong until Havoc interrupted his train of thought.

            “Are you waiting for the headmaster too, Jean?” Alex Armstrong’s voice boomed from across the walkway.

            Havoc laughed, and Roy bristled. “Nope. I’m just here to make sure Coach Hakuro saved me a spot on the spring track team.”

            “Military life isn’t for you, Havoc?” Olivier’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

            “No way. My dad would have a shitfit. He expects me to handle the family business and all that. If I told him I wanted to pick up a gun and march around the country, I’d be disowned.”

            “Well, we can’t have that, can we? Civilians all need cars sold to them with a smile, I suppose.”

            Roy glanced at Olivier who sneered at Havoc.

            “Not all of us were born into families who don’t have to try very hard anymore, Armstrong.” Havoc’s tone was light, but Roy felt the animosity. He didn’t want to be on the same side as Jean in any argument though, he did agree that the Armstrongs could be unbearably elitist.

            “It’s called pedigree, Havoc. Maybe in a century, your family will have a flickering of it.” She primly smoothed her skirt, despite there being no visible wrinkles.

            Headmaster Bradley appeared in the doorway of his office and eyed the group of students with his usual disgust. “Olivier Armstrong, please come with me.”

            Olivier smiled icily and disappeared behind the wooden door bearing the headmaster’s gold name plate. Roy closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall in his chair. Of course, she would be first. No sense in hoping he’d be relieved of Havoc’s presence so quickly.

            “How was your break, Mustang? Not trying to kiss Hakuro’s ass, I see.”

            “No,” Roy clipped.

            “Still hate me, huh?” Jean laughed. “My nose is fine, by the way. My dad threatened to bill you for the damage if you’d broken it.”

            “Lucky me.”

            “What I can’t figure is why you attacked me in the first place.” Havoc’s tone indicated he knew damn well why Roy had hit him. “You’re finally free to act on your incredibly obvious crush on Riza.”

            Roy’s hands tightened into fists. “Shut up, Havoc.”

            “Everyone knows about you two now. What’s the big deal?” Roy did his best to tune him out. “It’s not like I broke her heart or anything.”

            “Is it impossible for you to just shut up? _Ever?_ ”

            “Are you mad because I had her first? Because I’ve got news for you, Mustang, Riza isn’t a girl to be _had_.”

            “What the fuck are you talking about?” Roy opened his eyes and looked over at Havoc.

            “Just that you can’t take from her; she gives. I never _had_ her.”

            Alex shifted in his chair, looking very uncomfortable.

            “I know Riza better than you ever will, and I’d never assume to have her.” Roy glared at Jean.

            “Listen, Mustang, there’s no reason for you to harbor all this hatred towards me. I mean, feel free to keep at it, if that’s what gets you off, but I’m over it. Riza and I had a good time while it lasted, but I never told myself any lies about how things would end.”

            Roy’s eyes widened, and he did his best to grasp at his anger. He didn’t want to give Havoc any credit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            Jean barked out a laugh. “You’re about as dense as a bank safe, Mustang. Everyone has known since we were kids that you and Riza were endgame. She just let me play in her sandbox for a while, and now that’s over. I don’t have the energy to keep hanging on to bullshit pissing contests. I’ve got to reserve my testosterone for handling my dad.”

            Roy opened his mouth to reply, but Bradley’s office door swung open. Olivier marched out; the air around her glowed with smugness.

            “Alex, come into my office please,” the headmaster called from within. Alex glanced at his sister, who spared him nothing as she glided out of the offices. When the door closed again, Roy turned to Jean.

            “I’m sorry for hitting you.” His words shocked even himself, but if he ignored Havoc’s olive branch, he’d look like an asshole. There really _wasn’t_ a reason to keep on hating him. “I just thought-”

            “Yeah, I know what you thought. I’m not that type of guy.” Jean held out his hand, and Roy took it. “We don’t have to be best friends or anything, but I’d rather not leave things in a bad place. I know you won’t be around next year.”

            “Listen, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread that around, okay? My intentions aren’t exactly public knowledge.”

            Havoc’s eyes widened like saucers. “Oh my god, you haven’t told her?” He shook his head solemnly. “Good luck with that. I won’t say anything, but you definitely should.”

            Roy leaned forward and hid his face in his hands. “I know, I know. I never meant for things to get so out of hand. I-”

            “Havoc! Get in here!” Coach Hakuro’s voice interrupted him sharply, and Jean placed a hand on Roy’s shoulder in solidarity before leaving him alone in the hallway. It wasn’t more than a few moments before Alex strode from Bradley’s office, smiling. The door slammed shut behind him, and Roy was made to wait for longer than he felt necessary.

            “Roy Mustang, please join me in my office,” the headmaster finally called. Roy entered the office and sat in the chair closest to the door. “Well, Mister Mustang, it seems you’ll be leaving us soon.”

            “I hope so, sir.”

            Bradley folded his fingers together and glared at him from behind them. “I assume you’re working diligently to complete your essays despite Doctor Hawkeye’s absence?”

            “Yes, sir, he left me a number of notes and instructions. I’m nearly finished.”

            “It’s a shame he left us before he could see you through.”

            Roy looked down between his knees. His shoelaces were untied, and he frowned. “It is. I miss him quite a bit.”

            “Death is the most natural part of life, Mustang. It happens to us all. Fortunately for you, his association will speak well of your application.”

            “I suppose.”

            “I’m choosing to leave your altercation with Jean Havoc out of your permanent record.” Roy’s eyes snapped up to the headmaster. “Don’t assume this is a personal favor due to any affection I hold toward you. I assure you I have none. I simply want you out of my hair and believe your talents would be best served under the much stricter _care_ of the military.”

            “Sir-” Roy began.

            Bradley held up a silencing hand. “No need for empty words of thanks, Mustang. Your departure is best for everyone. All I ask is that you don’t waste all the hard work Hawkeye put into you or tarnish the good name of this institution. Make your country proud.”

            “Of course, sir.”

            “You’re dismissed.” Bradley stood and handed him the thick, white envelope with the military university crest embossed on the front. Roy took it and slid it into his bag. He didn’t manage to make it all the way out of the administrative suite before tripping over his untied laces.

            Roy’s bedroom lacked the space for all of the boxes of Doctor Hawkeye’s research materials, and Riza wasn’t opposed to him storing them in one of her guest bedrooms. He’d been spending his afternoons shut away and feverishly working on his application essays. If Riza had any ideas as to what he was doing, she didn’t comment. He could often hear her talking to herself in the kitchen. She had a habit of reading her debate positions out loud and pacing the tiled floors for hours at a time.

            He felt guilty for continuing to keep his application a secret from her but hated to broach the subject of his departure. East City was several hours away, and his breaks while there would be few and far between. Roy didn’t doubt her ability to function alone; Riza wasn’t as needy as himself and had bounced back from her father’s death with a determination that made him love and admire her even more. He suspected his trepidation was more rooted in his own apprehensions. With a frustrated sigh, he gathered his essays and left the bedroom.

            “...and furthermore, this repression of alchemical practice from civilians lends an unfair balance of power toward the military, leaving the impression that-”

            Roy leaned against the kitchen door frame and cleared his throat.

            She turned and smiled. “Oh, hey, Roy. Are you done up there for now?”

            “For now. I need a break and a change of scenery.”

            “Going home then? I think I’m done here, as well. My brain hurts.”

            “Not yet, I just get tired of the bedroom. The couch is calling to me.” He grinned and held out a hand. She took it and leaned up to kiss his jaw.

            “I see. Well, I’ll join you. Solaris will be here in a little bit to take over the kitchen, and I need to unwind before grandfather arrives for dinner.”

            Roy settled onto the couch, and Riza stretched out across its length, her bare legs draped over his lap. He spread the file folder over them and scanned through his work. Several mistakes caught his eye, and with a red pen, he marked them for later correction.

            “Roy.” Riza’s foot nudged his thigh.

            “Hm?”

            “You’re doing that thing.”

            He glanced over, but her face was hidden behind a magazine. “What thing?”

            “The thing where you whisper when you read to yourself.”

            “Sorry,” he mumbled and returned to his proofreading. Several minutes passed before she nudged him again.

            “You’re still doing it.”

            “I am not. I think you’re imagining things.”

            She turned a page loudly. “No, you’re definitely doing the thing. It’s distracting.”

            Roy looked at her again and watched as she lifted a knee and leaned it against the back of the couch. “You know what else is distracting? Your legs. They’re on me, and I can’t concentrate.”

            Riza made no reply. She only bounced her leg against the cushion, and he scowled when her uniform skirt rode up her thigh.

            “Are you doing that on purpose? Because I can see your panties now.”

            “Oh really? What color are they then?” She continued to keep the magazine in front of her face, as if completely oblivious to his irritation.

            “I’m a gentleman, Riza. I won’t lower myself to your outrageous flirting.”

            She snorted and turned another page.

            “You _are_ doing it on purpose!”

            Riza finally tossed the magazine aside and folded her arms behind her head. “What are you going to do about it?”

            Roy’s mouth twisted into a feral grin, and he carefully placed his work on a side table. He grasped her leg and held it to his side as he placed a knee between them and crawled over her body.

            “I think maybe you should be taught a lesson in distractions.”

            “I doubt your qualifications to instruct such a course.” She turned her head away from him haughtily, and Roy trailed his fingertips over the skin of her thigh. Despite her nonchalance, he could see her chest rising and falling quicker than before. He latched his mouth to the expanse of her neck and knew he’d scored a point when her fingers feathered through his hair.

            Her legs hitched around his waist, and he nudged the hem of her camisole out of his way with one hand. The skin of her stomach was soft, and he enjoyed the feel of her fluttering breaths. Roy flicked his tongue over her neck, and she shuddered. “Did I find a spot?” he asked, grinning smugly.

            “I’m not telling you anything,” Riza retorted, tugging on his hair. “This is your class, remember?”

            His fingers brushed against her bra beneath the camisole, and he pulled away. “Am I going to find your bra is as blue as your panties?”

            Riza bit her lip and turned her head away. “You’ll have to be brave enough to find out.” When she looked back at him, her eyes sparkled. “Are you brave enough, Roy?”

            She allowed him to pull the camisole over her head, and he gazed down at the bright blue lace. Roy groaned and hid his face in her chest. “Lace, Riza, really? You have lace under your uniform every day? I can’t carry on anymore.”

            “What were you expecting? Boring cotton?” She ran her fingers through his hair, and he kissed the mounds of her breasts.

            “I don’t know,” Roy mumbled, “Something less enticing.”

            Riza shocked him by reaching down and palming the hardening bulge between them. “I’d say, mission accomplished.” She laughed. “I warned you I had a bit of a sex-brain, Roy. You’d better do something about it.”

            Roy slowly slid the blue strap over her shoulder.

            “The clasp is in the back. What are you doing?”

            “I thought you said this was my class. No more impertinence from you.”

            Riza huffed and squirmed beneath him.

            “I’m just savoring the moment.”

            Her reply was stifled when he closed his mouth around the pink tip of her nipple. He settled his hand over the opposite lace-covered breast, and she sighed.

            “You’re driving me crazy, and I know it’s intentional.”

            Roy hummed against her. “This is what you get for distracting me from my work.”

            She grasped a wad of his shirt and pulled. “Get this off; you’re overdressed.” Riza wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged him down against her. “Touch me, Roy,” she whispered against his lips. The breath in his throat hitched. Riza grabbed his hand and helped him along.

            He hid his face in her neck and found the lacy edge of her panties on the juncture of hip and thigh. She was warm and wet around his fingers, and there would be no hiding his erection now. Riza gripped the arm that disappeared under her skirt and moaned quietly as he brushed over her sensitive skin. Her breaths sped up, and Roy watched in wonder as her teeth sank into her lip and reveled in the way she tightened around him.

            “Riza! Are you home?” Solaris’s voice carried throughout the house, and the front door shut loudly behind her.

            Roy’s heart nearly jumped from the confines of his chest, and he yanked his hand away from its place between Riza’s legs. “Is that Solaris? _Now?_ ” he whispered.

            Riza groaned and pushed him back so she could sit. “Damn it, she’s early. _Where’s my shirt?_ ” Roy rolled off her and grasped for clothes.

            They heard Solaris rummaging around in the kitchen, and Roy became very aware of the uncomfortable tightness in his pants. “This is awful,” he groaned and fell back onto the couch cushions.

            Riza pulled on her camisole and patted his back. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault for losing track of time. Looks like we’ll have to take a raincheck.” She cleared her throat. “You can go take care of that in the bathroom before you go, if you want.”

            Roy looked up at her and scowled. “It’s not funny, Riza.”

            The giggles broke through her straight face. “I know. I don’t mean to laugh. I’d help you out if I could, but not with Solaris lurking in the kitchen.” She tossed him his t-shirt and straightened her own clothes.

            “This is so embarrassing,” Roy mumbled, pulling on his shirt.

            “It could’ve been worse. She might have actually come looking for me and found you with your hand under my skirt.” Riza leaned down and kissed him. “Next time, we’ll make sure the door is chained, and no company is expected.” Roy pulled her into his lap and kissed her neck softly, then with more enthusiasm. She gasped and made to push him away. “Don't start that again, Roy. I can’t handle it.”

            He grinned triumphantly. “So I _did_ find a spot!”

            “Okay, fine, _yes_. That’s a spot I like. Use that knowledge wisely, and I won’t have to hurt you.”

            Roy grimaced. “I’m hurting _now._ ” He stood and adjusted his pants. “I think I’ll go home and imagine those blue panties again. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

            Riza smiled apologetically and let him pull her close for a goodbye kiss. “You sure you don’t want to see Solaris?”

            “You’re horrible. I can’t walk into her kitchen in this state.” Roy was lucky to avoid a speeding ticket on his way home. Images of Riza under him on the couch lingered long enough to relieve the tension before he remembered his application packet was due at the end of the week. He wasn’t looking forward to the finality of leaving it for the mail carrier.


	11. Chapter 11

            Edward Elric couldn’t concentrate. He was supposed to be studying for a biological alchemy exam, but he hated biology and the words all blended together on the page. He stood from his chair, and leaned over the library’s third floor railing to watch cadets mill around the stacks beneath him. He didn’t actually care about anything other than earning his state certification, and the process of studying the basics of _all_ fields of alchemy was tedious.

            His father had encouraged him to apply to the university and learn alchemy the legal way, as opposed to his own basement. Edward didn’t see the point. Van Hoenheim was completely self-taught and practiced privately in their rural hometown with relative ease. He had no specialty, though, and seemed content to help his neighbors with whatever they needed without payment. Hoenheim insisted the only reason he’d been free to do this was the family fortune, which dwindled. Edward’s interests were solely focused on alchemy, and he’d need the research grants to support himself when the money was gone - unless he wanted to be a farmer, a shopkeeper, or try his hand at medical practice like Pinako Rockbell had offered. The idea of slicing into living bodies, however, turned Edward’s stomach.

            Alphonse Elric opposed the military on every level and took Pinako’s suggestions to heart. He’d met a nurse in Central City, and now devoted all his time to earning his medical doctorate and doting on May. They’d be married soon, and Edward was glad the military university was in East City. Al and May were disgustingly in love, and being in their presence seemed even less preferable than performing surgeries.

            Because Edward was a handful of years older than most of the other cadets in his class, he often found himself in a mentor position, which he didn’t care for. Sure, he had more than a basic knowledge of alchemy, but he didn’t see why holding anyone’s hand was his job. Twenty-one wasn’t _that_ old, anyway. Edward told himself that he only had one more year of this nonsense, and then he’d be amongst actual peers. He desperately wished the military still awarded the rank of major to State Alchemists upon certification. Abuse of subordinates and authority put a stop to that practice, though. A pity.

            He drummed his fingers against the railing and lamented the loss of his weekend. The task of showing some student-cadets from Central City around the campus had fallen to him, and Edward wasn’t looking forward to it. Student-cadets were the worst kind of cadets, in his opinion. They weren’t even finished with their formal schooling and always radiated an air of overachieving arrogance. In his mind, there wasn’t anything special about early acceptance. _Of course_ the military wanted to net as many alchemists as possible! The legalization of privatized alchemy was just around the corner, and securing potential talent was paramount.

            His thoughts drifted homeward and to Winry. He missed her terribly and often thought of leaving the military university to follow in his father’s footsteps of living in obscurity. Winry was a brilliant mechanical engineer and would never want for work even in a backwater town like Resembool. Edward imagined himself as a private alchemist giving lessons to local children and being her house husband. He could almost feel a wrench assaulting him from across the room for even considering giving up. At the very least, he could earn his certification and later resign the commission once private alchemy was legal. Until then, he was stuck with three student-cadets and a never ending stream of classmates bugging him for help on one subject or another.

            Edward sighed and turned back to his textbooks. Life was so unfair.

* * *

 

            Roy stretched his feet out on the bleacher bench seat in front of him and watched Riza embarrass her archery teammates with ease. No one could stick the bull’s-eye with the artistry she could, though many tried.

            “Hey, Roy, you look like you’re on vacation over here.” Hughes made himself comfortable.

            “Just enjoying the weather and view, Hughes.” Roy glanced over at him with a crooked grin.

            “Are you trying to beat Gracia and me in the _most disgusting couple_ category? I’m taking it as a personal insult.”

            “Nah, you can have the title. I just want to be out here while I still can.”

            “Regretting your military aspirations already?”

            “Not really, just the leaving part.” Roy watched Riza pluck another arrow from her quiver and roll her shoulders before nocking it.

            “You still haven’t told her yet? I have to say, Roy, that’s going to be an ugly conversation at this point.”

            “I know I’m an asshole, Hughes. You don’t have to rub it in, but there’s no avoiding it now. My acceptance packet was delivered to the office today. I’m going to have to tell her after school.”

            Maes clapped Roy on the shoulder as Coach Curtis blew her whistle, signaling the end of afternoon practice. “Good luck with that, man. I don’t envy you.”

            “Me neither, but I suppose it’s par for the course today. I tripped on my fucking shoelaces again and broke the shoulder clasp on my bag,” he mumbled as he watched Riza gather her equipment and make her way across the field toward him.

            “Hey, Maes,” Riza greeted Hughes with a smile. “I almost didn’t recognize you without Gracia glued to your side.”

            “If that’s an insult, I am immune,” Hughes chuckled before jogging down the benches, and leaving Roy alone with Riza.

            “Ready to go?” Roy grabbed his book bag, forgetting the broken piece of plastic, and the contents spilled over the foot rest. He sighed and held the ruined bag for her inspection.

            “How did you manage this?” Riza side-eyed him as he bent to gather his scattered belongings.

            “Oh, the usual. Shoelaces. Absentmindedness. Blah, blah.”

            “Roy, you’re hopeless,” Riza opened the bag for him as he piled books and papers inside. “What’s this?” She grabbed a white envelope from behind her feet and inspected it.

            His eyes widened in horror. Of course she’d pick up _that_ envelope. “It’s uh-” He reached out to grab it from her hands, but Riza twisted out of his reach.

            “Is this the EUMA logo?” Her eyes flashed as she pried the envelope open.

            “I-” He didn’t have the words at his disposal to argue, and she was already scanning the paper inside it.

            “This is an _acceptance_ letter, Roy. When did you even apply?” The tone of her voice filled him with dread.

            “Well-”

            “Who else knows about this?” Roy’s face reddened; he could only look at his feet and stuff his hands into his trouser pockets. “So basically everyone but me. Everyone but your supposed best friend and girlfriend.” She shoved the letter and envelope marked with the traitorous crest at his chest and turned to walk away.

            “Riza, wait! I meant to tell you! Your dad was helping me with my essays, and then… _things_ happened, and I just-”

            When she turned back to him, his heart constricted. There were tears in her eyes. “Oh, great, so my dad was in on this big lie, too? Fantastic!”

            “No! It wasn’t like that!”

            “Just shut up, Roy. I am uninterested in everything you have to say right now. I’m going to find Becky.” She made her way down the rows of bleachers, and Roy struggled to keep up.

            “ _Why?_ Can’t we talk about this?”

            “Because I don’t have a car, you asshole, and I’m _not_ riding home with you _now._ ”

            “Riza!”

            She turned to him one last time before marching off toward the academy building. “Do not follow me, Roy Mustang.”

            Riza left him standing on the bottom row bench with a broken book bag, untied shoelaces, and a mess of school supplies spilling out all around him.

            “Are you coming down for dinner, Roy?” His aunt’s voice was muffled under the pillows he had stacked over his head.

            “No,” he mumbled.

            “Bad day?”

            He felt the mattress depress under her weight. Roy pulled his hand from under the pillows and held out the crumpled acceptance letter. She took it from him, and read it over.

            “Well, this is good news! Expected, but good news all the same. Can I assume from your position that Riza only found out about this today?”

            Roy rolled over and looked helplessly up at Chris. “She’s very upset with me, and I don’t know how to fix it. I can’t remember a time where she’s ever been this mad.”

            “You can’t go back in time, kid. You should have told her long ago.”

            _“I know!”_ Roy flung his arm over his eyes. “She was so angry she had tears. That’s unlike her, and I feel like the biggest jerk on the face of the planet.”

            Chris sighed and glanced at the letter again. “Are you reconsidering early admittance, then?”

            “No. I’m going next year. It’s done.”

            “What about this tour of the campus? It’s this weekend. Were your train tickets included with the packet?”

            Roy sighed. “Yeah, it’s all in my stupid book bag, which, by the way, is broken.”

            Chris reached out and tidied his mess of hair. “You’ve had some day, kid. Come downstairs and have dinner. It’ll help you sleep.”

            “Do you think I should call her?” He sat up and folded the letter into thirds once again.

            “I think you should let her have her anger. You _are_ in the wrong.”

            “I feel horrible.”

            “You can’t make her talk to you, Roy. Just let it lie for the weekend, and see how she feels on Monday.” Chris wrapped her arm around her nephew when he leaned into her side.

            “What if she never speaks to me again?”

            “Don’t be dramatic. Riza loves you, and even if she tells you to take a long walk off a short pier, she’d certainly say it to your face before cutting you off.”

            “ _Thanks,_ ” Roy drawled sarcastically.

            Chris chuckled and hugged him closer. “It’ll work itself out. Just give her some time. A lady needs to sort and validate her feelings on her own. Riza doesn’t need you blowing up her phone, begging for attention. I should think you’d know her better than that.”

            “I guess so, but it’s never been _me_ on the receiving end of her wrath. Someone else was always on the target. Like Havoc or that Miles guy.”

            “Ah, Miles, I remember him. The muscular wrestler. Whatever happened to him?”

            Roy poked at the carpet with his toe. “He graduated last year. I don’t want to talk about guys Riza dated before me. It’s depressing.”

            “I’m sorry.” Chris kissed his temple. “Come on down when you’re ready. I’ll help you pack later. When does your train leave?”

            “Eight in the morning or something. I’ll check after dinner.”

            “Good boy. I’ll see you downstairs.” Chris left him alone in his room, and Roy buried his face in his hands. He’d expected Riza to be upset with him, but he’d never pictured her finding out in such an uncontrollable way. The idea of leaving home for one weekend, let alone months at a time, with Riza angry to the point of public tears filled his stomach with nauseating butterflies. It took every last drop of resolve to not call her house and beg for forgiveness. Roy absolutely knew her well enough to see the faulty judgement in that plan. She would _not_ be ready to accept his apology, however heartfelt.

            With a heavy sigh and a lump in his throat, Roy left the offending letter on his bed before making his way downstairs. As crushing as it was, the reality of his situation remained inescapable. He’d upset his best friend and the girl he loved with a lie by omission. His aunt’s advice was sound, and Roy decided to leave Riza to her anger until the following week. It would be a hardship absorbing everything he’d need to over the weekend, but his bed was made, and he forced himself to stay in it.

            Roy opted to sleep through the five hour train ride to East City instead of attempting to interact with the Armstrong siblings. Alex and Olivier were polar opposites in personality, and being in the same room as both of them felt a whole lot like conversational whiplash. He woke when Alex nudged his shoulder.

            “Rise, and shine, Mustang. Time to get moving.” Olivier’s snide voice sliced through the noise of exiting passengers. “Or would you rather sulk in the train car all weekend moping about your girlfriend?”

            “Shut up, Armstrong.”

            Olivier smirked and left him alone in the car with Alex. “Sorry, Roy, she’s always been a little abrasive.”

            Roy stood and stretched. “Only a _little?_ ”

            Alex looked chagrined. “She’s under a lot of pressure, you know. I know from the outside it may look like the Armstrongs have an easy life, but so much is expected. It’s going to be hard on Catherine Elle when she realizes it’s not all parties and popularity.”

            “Yes,” Roy snorted, “I’ve been the subject of your little sister’s attentions. She’s pretty intense.”

            Alex laughed out loud and led the way out of the train car. “I’ve heard rumors. No need to explain.”

            On the platform, Olivier stood with an older boy, who looked even more impatient than she. “Fall back asleep, Mustang?” she asked with a curl of her lip.

            “No. In case you didn’t notice, there’s a crowd of people. I don’t expect the seas to part for _me_ , Armstrong.”

            “Shut up, both of you,” the older cadet said, “Let’s just get this weekend over with.” He cleared his throat and went on. “I’m Edward Elric, and I’m your host for the next day and a half. Just follow me, listen to what I say, and no bickering. I’m already over it.”

            Alex greeted Edward affably, while Olivier remained aloof. Roy suspected she wanted to be here even less than he did. She’d probably been born with every bit of necessary knowledge and resented Edward for assuming to be her superior in any way.

            Edward turned his eyes on Roy. “So you’re Mustang, huh? I’ve heard about you. Apprentice to the original Flame Alchemist.”

            Roy shrugged. “I guess. He’s dead now, so it doesn’t matter.”

            “Well, whatever. Just don’t set any fires while you’re here. I don’t need another headache.”

            “You and me both,” Roy mumbled.

            Despite his standoffish personality, Edward was a decent host. He conducted a thorough tour and answered all of Alex’s questions. Roy mostly feigned disinterest until they walked through the row of chemistry labs. He couldn’t hold back his excitement. Edward’s demeanor lightened, and they animatedly discussed chemical theory and application. The prospect of unlimited research material nearly erased all the anxiety over the situation with Riza. It all came rushing back, though, when Edward left them to the visitors’ dorms until the next morning. Somehow, Roy found himself alone and dejectedly sitting on a bench near a payphone, running through all the reasons why calling Riza would be a bad idea.

            “Are you going to use the phone, or is it open?” A female voice broke through his inner arguments.

            “Oh no, please, go ahead. I shouldn’t be calling _anyone_.” Roy half-grinned up at the cadet.

            “What’s the matter, soldier? Girl trouble?” She sat next to him without invitation.

            Roy sighed. “I’m not actually a soldier yet. I’ll be a student-cadet next semester.”

            “New blood, huh? Let me give you some advice then, almost-student-cadet: don’t bring problems from home with you. Fix your shit or shut it out.”

            “That’s pretty sound advice.”

            “Trust me. I’ve got so much family drama it’s coming out of my ears. There’s no fixing it, so I shut it out. We all need to have a happy place.” The female cadet leaned back against the wall. “You’ve got a happy place, right?”

            “I did, but she’s mad at me.”

            “I knew you had a girl problem! No one ever looks so sad because their uncle called them an embarrassment to the whole family.” She grinned at him.

            Roy raised an eyebrow. “Your uncle sounds like a real dick.”

            “Yep. He is. I’m Cadet Ross, by the way. I suppose you can call me Maria, for now.” Maria winked at him and held out a hand.

            “Roy Mustang.” He shook her hand and tried to smile.

            “Nice to meet you, Roy Mustang. Listen, another bit of advice? Girls are tricky. I’ve got one at home, myself. If she’s mad at you, don’t poke the fire, okay?”

            “I don’t want to poke any fires. I just want to fix it.”

            “It can’t be as bad as all that. What did you do?

            Roy sighed heavily and closed his eyes. “I didn’t tell her I was planning on leaving. She found out in the worst way possible and blew up at me. I feel like I’ve lost my best friend.”

            “Ah, I see. Long distance relationships aren’t easy, you know? Total honesty is always best. You can’t be so far away from each other without defining absolutely everything.”

            “Lights out, Cadet Ross!” An older cadet marched past them with a stern glare.

            “Yes, sir!” She watched the other cadet go and turned back to him. “Well, Mustang, I’ve got to get back to my dorm. Remember what I said! Fix it, or block it out. I’ll see you around next semester.”

            “Thanks, Maria. Sorry for keeping you from making your call.”

            “Don’t worry about it.” Maria Ross stood and left him alone on the bench once again. Roy’s heart felt just as heavy as before, but he wouldn’t pick up the phone. He wanted to patch things over with Riza in person. She deserved that much. As he trudged back to his room, hands hidden in his pockets, he did his best to put the situation at home in a box and lock it away.


	12. Chapter 12

            Solaris Bailey had a passion for food. She believed a properly prepared meal could lift the spirits and cleanse the soul. Berthold Hawkeye had employed her services shortly after the untimely death of his wife, and her heart had gone out to the sad little girl who slunk around the house with a perpetual frown. She’d managed to coax a smile from Riza with warm and melting chocolate chip cookies. The elder Hawkeye took some time. He claimed to not be a picky eater, but Solaris could tell which recipes he cared for more than others. Eventually, she eked out which were his favorites and experimented with the ingredients to learn specifics.

            She wasn’t sure when she fell into a silent love with Berthold. Perhaps it was the quiet way he loved his daughter once he’d cleared the cloud of grief. Or maybe she felt the first tugs of affection when she’d catch him reading in stocking feet by the fireplace in winter. The coldest of seasons was his favorite, and Solaris suspected this was because he enjoyed the freedom of manipulating the flames without curious eyes. No one sat by an indoor fire during the summer.

            Riza had the quiet demeanor of her father and same obsessive nature. She pursued her interests with a sometimes-terrifying focus. Solaris was often the audience for her carefully-written debate positions and felt honored to be in possession of a trusted opinion. The mood in the house lifted when Roy Mustang was present. His friendship with Riza brought out a witty side of her, and Solaris enjoyed the sound of her shameless laughter. A young boy was easy to please with a loaded plate, and she’d heard his extravagant praise enough to know her efforts were appreciated.

            Working under the Hawkeye roof for nearly a decade gave her a sense of safety and purpose. They were like family to her, and Solaris grieved deeply when Berthold passed away. She’d never acted on her private feelings toward him, as it would’ve felt wholly inappropriate and unprofessional, and didn’t believe he’d ever known of them. Now he never would. Loving him from a distance had been enough for her once, and after his death, her heart sat empty.

            Always the giver, Solaris wished she could do more for the daughter left behind. Riza seemed to be in good hands, though. The woman was a romantic at heart and had been secretly delighted when it became clear the friendship with Roy Mustang had bloomed into something more. Such a change had been expected, but young love eased the pain of death. Losing Berthold would always linger as a sadness, but remaining in the life of a young girl who’d lost far too much, far too early in life brought her resolve. Riza had made it clear she needed Solaris to stay for her skills, but the subtext behind her eyes said much more. Continuity. Familiarity. Trust. Riza needed her.

            And Solaris needed to be needed.

* * *

 

            Roy had done nothing but stare at the scenery flashing by as the train sped back to Central City. He’d done his utmost best to follow Cadet Ross’s advice and block out the anxiety until he returned home. For the most part, he’d been successful. The second day of tours and meetings with cadre had been quite busy, and his mind was preoccupied with absorbing information at a rate he hadn’t believed he was capable of. More than ever, he felt confident that ECMU was the place he needed to be. More than one high-ranking professor had complimented him and seemed impressed he’d worked so closely with Doctor Hawkeye. They’d expressed an eagerness to work with him in the coming years.

            The moment he’d stepped on the train, though, all the rough edges in his mind frayed hopelessly. He wanted to see Riza and apologize. For better or worse, he couldn’t leave at the end of the summer and not know where he stood with her. Roy had no energy to apply to the situation and resigned himself to going straight to bed once his aunt brought him home. He’d made a decision to give her until Monday, and he would stick to it.

            When the train squealed to a halt at Central City Station, he pulled his bags from the overhead storage and exhaustedly dragged himself from the carriage. The platform was busy, as usual, and he scanned the crowd for his aunt. Surely she hadn’t forgotten to come and collect him? His heart stuttered when, instead of Chris Mustang, he saw Riza standing off by herself near the main archway leading outside. Roy cautiously approached her and felt a weight slide from his shoulders when she graced him with a smile. He dropped his bag and held out his hands in a show of peace. Riza wrapped her arms around his middle and drew him into a tight embrace. Roy could do nothing but hold her close.

            “We need to talk. I’ve done a lot of thinking while you’ve been away.”

            He inhaled the scent of her hair and smiled awkwardly when she took his hand. “I owe you an apology.”

            “You do, but let’s get outside. I have something to show you.”

            He allowed her to pull him through the crowd and under the archway.

            “Do you have a cab waiting? I’m assuming my aunt isn’t here.”

            Riza smiled back at him. “Nope. I bought a car this weekend!”

            “You… bought a car?”

            She led him to the paved parking area and stopped next to a shining black vehicle.           “Wow, Riza, this is… wow!”

            “Do you like it? Grandfather helped me pick it out, and Mister Havoc gave me a great deal.”

            “You _can_ drive, right?” He grinned at her over the top of the car.

            Riza rolled her eyes. “Of course I can drive! It’s been a while since I rolled my dad’s station wagon through the garage door when we were thirteen.” Roy tossed his bag in the back seat and slid into the passenger side.

            “This is really nice, Riza. I’m sure you’ll be much happier having your own way around town.”

            She smiled broadly. “I already am.” The car started easily, and with expertise, Riza pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road. “I know you’re probably tired and cranky from the train, but we need to talk about this.”

            “We do, and Riza, I’m so fucking sorry for not telling you everything. I swear I meant to, but after your dad passed away, I couldn’t find a good time, and then things just sort of… spiraled.” He glanced over at her, but her eyes remained on the road.

            “It was humiliating, Roy. I felt like everyone else knew but me. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Even if we weren’t dating, I’m your best friend, and I should’ve been the first to know! You really hurt my feelings, and I can’t believe you had the ability to keep such a big secret from me for so long.”

            “You’re right. There isn’t an excuse for keeping secrets, and I’ve never felt worse about anything in my life. When you walked away from me on Friday, I honestly felt like you’d physically hurt me.” He stared down at his hands. “I never want to make you cry again.”

            “I accept your apology. _But_ I swear to _god_ , Roy, if you _ever_ keep _anything_ from me again, I’ll run you over with this car.”

            “I never should’ve lied to you.” He heaved a breath and let his head fall back against the seat. “This whole weekend has been stressful.”

            “Well, you’re home now. Tell me about the university; do you feel good about transferring early?”

            “Absolutely. It’ll be shitty being at the bottom of the food chain, student-cadets are damn near despised, but I met people who knew your dad. I’m anxious to get into the labs.”

            “I’m happy.”

            “Are you? I was so afraid you’d be angry at me for leaving you alone here.”

            Riza smiled sideways at him. “I was only angry at you for not telling me. I can handle things on my own. Grandfather and I have a good relationship now, and your aunt is very kind to me. Don’t worry about any of that. You should be focused on your studies and earning your state certification.”

            “You know I love you, right?”

            “I do.”

            Roy let his eyes slide shut and enjoyed the lightness in his chest.

            “Do you want me to take you straight home? I’m sure your aunt wants to see you, though, I think she’s uptown right now.”

            “If you don’t mind? I’m really tired, and I don’t think I can handle much of anything else.”

            Riza nudged him awake when she pulled into his driveway. Roy left his packed bag in the foyer and dragged himself straight up to his room. He fell into bed, and Riza lay next to him, brushing the hair from his eyes. “Want me to leave you to your nap?”

            “No. I want you to stay.” He pulled her against him and kissed her soundly.

            Riza kicked off her sandals and tucked her head under his chin. “I’m going to miss you terribly, Roy.”

            “There isn’t a single person I’ll miss more than you,” he sighed before drifting off to sleep.

            The end of the school year chugged ever closer, and Roy’s excited anxiety built. Once Riza knew of his transfer, the secret exploded. Teachers went out of their way to congratulate him and wish him their best. Bradley’s demeanor didn’t change at all, and he was happy only a few weeks of being under the headmaster’s eye remained.

            With final exams looming, Roy didn’t have much time to devote to romance. His formal acceptance to the Eastern University of Military Application wouldn’t come until the last round of postings, and he would often lose himself for hours in review material. Riza had her own exams to worry about, as well, but it irritated him that such a large chunk of their last months together had to be spent separated. Early efforts to study side by side ended in half-clothed distraction, with no productive work being done. Riza insisted on the time apart. Her final grade in government and political science would determine her spot in the advanced placement courses for the next year, and Roy knew she had her eye on the Central College of Humanities.

            Roy found himself alone, pacing distracted circles in the dining pavilion on a rainy afternoon only days before the academy shut its doors for summer break. Most of the students had vacated the grounds already, but Roy needed stark quietude. Riza’s house was out of the question, and his own bedroom contained a certain trace of her that would only lead to the opposite of studying. He hadn’t meant to keep the panties, but when she’d hurriedly thrown on her athletic shorts after a quick tumble in his bed, they were left behind. Of course he’d return them! Eventually.

            A quiet yipping noise brought him from his mental calculations, and he glanced around the pavilion. Kain Furey was sitting cross-legged under a table, and he had a squirming ball of fur in his lap.

            “Hey, Furey, what’s that you’ve got down there?” Roy crouched next to the table and peered underneath.

            “Oh, hi, Roy. It’s a puppy. I found him sniffing around the garbage bins behind the kitchens, and I couldn’t leave him. Poor thing’s all wet and alone.” The dog barked in response and turned its glassy eyes on Roy.

            “Are you going to take him home with you, then?”

            Kain’s face fell. “I can’t. My mom and I aren't allowed pets where we live. I was going to take him to the shelter downtown.”

            Roy held out his fingers, and the dog eagerly sniffed them. Its black fur was unexpectedly soft, even if a little wet. “How old do you think he is?”

            “Oh, I don’t know. I do think it’s a puppy, though. He isn’t very big.”

            “Huh.” An idea was forming in Roy’s head. Even though Riza promised him she’d be okay in his absence, he still worried about her being alone in her house at night. He knew, despite her assertions of independence, loneliness would settle in eventually. Riza could be far too much like her father sometimes. “You know, Kain, I think I may have a solution for you.”

            Roy’s eyes flitted to the puppy in the passenger seat of his car several times during the ride to Riza’s house. He’d stopped by a supply store to purchase basic dog products just so she didn’t think he was giving her a pet and immediate financial responsibility. When he pulled into her driveway, he turned to the nameless creature again.

            “Well, pup, try and look cute. First impressions are important here, and I want you to look after my girl while I’m gone. Can you do that, boy? Riza might be kinda stern, but she’s a softy inside.” He reached out and gave the puppy a scratch behind the ears, and in return, a pink tongue flicked out and lapped at his fingers. “That’s exactly what I want to see from you when she opens the door, okay? Cute and friendly.” Roy cradled him against his chest and stepped from the car. “Ready for your big debut?”

            When Riza opened the door, her smile faltered. Her eyes went from his face to the dog several times. “Why would you get a dog _now?_ You’re leaving in a few months.”

            “Well, it’s not exactly my dog. Furey found him behind the kitchens at school, and I couldn’t let him go to the shelter.”

            Riza quirked an eyebrow and leaned casually against the doorframe.

            “I maybe thought that _you’d_ like a dog?”

            Her expression didn’t change, and Roy’s heart rate picked up.

            “Look how cute he is! He can sleep on your bed at night when I’m gone and keep you company!”

            “I’ve never had a pet before,” she said dryly.

            “Well, now is a perfect time to invite a furry companion into your life. He’ll be great!” The black puppy seemed to sense his new home was in the balance and barked playfully. “He wants you to take him, Riza! How can you say no to that face?”

            “He’s not as cute as _you_ , and I tell you no all the time.” She sighed and took the dog from his arms. “You do realize that by bringing me this animal you’ve become _that_ boyfriend?”

            Roy shook his head and followed her into the house. “What boyfriend?”

            “The one who gives outrageously irresponsible gifts like pets.”

            “It’s not irresponsible! He’s homeless, and you’re going to be alone.”

            “How do you know I’m not allergic to dogs?” Riza sat on the couch and ran her fingers through the dog’s fur. He walked a tiny circle on her lap and fell into a contented heap. Roy scowled. Riza ran her fingers through _his_ hair. That was _his_ thing.

            “You aren’t allergic to dogs.”

            “But you didn’t know that!”

            Roy fell into a chair. “I did. Anyway, I think he likes you.”

            Riza continued to stroke the dog’s fur as he let out a tiny sigh. She glanced up at Roy and laughed. “You’re not jealous of this puppy, are you?”

            “No.”

            “Roy Mustang, you _are_! It’s all over your face.” She leaned down and kissed the dog’s downy head. “He stays, then. But he needs a bath.”

            “I bought some pet stuff. It’s in my car. I’ll go get it and bathe him for you.” Roy stood and glared at the traitorous, usurping dog before retrieving the bags of supplies from his trunk. He’d wanted the puppy to be cute, but not romance his girlfriend.

            He left his uniform shirt in the kitchen and gave the puppy a thorough washing in the guest bath. The dog was much dirtier than he’d thought, and the thick fur was difficult to wash out. Eventually, the water ran clean, and Roy wrapped him in a towel. Before returning him to Riza, he held the bundle close to his face.

            “Listen, pup, she’s mine, okay? You can be her friend and keep her from being lonely while I’m away, but she’s always going to love _me_ more.” He nodded to himself. “I’m glad we had this chat.”

            Riza waited in the kitchen with a bowl of food and water. “Do you think he’s potty trained?”

            “I have no idea, but it’s probably a bad idea to assume he is.”

            She smirked at him. “You give the best presents, Roy.”

            He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her against him. “I just want you to have someone with you when it’s dark. He’ll be perfect.”

            Riza wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. “Not as perfect as you. Don’t think that getting me a dog is going to make me miss you any less.”

            Roy brushed his lips against hers. “Don’t be lonely, okay? I’m coming back.”

            “You’d better fucking come back.”

            “Only death could keep me away,” he mumbled.

            “That’s not funny,” Riza scolded, pushing away from him.

            “It wasn’t meant to be. This isn’t forever. When private alchemy is legal, I intend to resign my commission. The military isn’t my home, Riza; _you_ are.”

            Riza smiled and pulled him close again. “Let’s go upstairs.”

            “What about the dog?” He glanced around and saw the puppy had curled up in the fuzzy, circular dog bed in the corner of the kitchen.

            “I think he’ll be fine,” she whispered, tugging on his hand. “I need to thank you properly for your thoughtfulness.”

            Roy followed her up the stairs and to her room, where she promptly divested him of his uniform. “You’re not expecting Solaris any time soon, are you?” He pulled her undershirt over her head and found the side zipper of her skirt.

            She laughed. “Nope, and you can’t blame her entirely. Your aunt busted up our last moment together. I want my panties back, by the way.”

            Roy let the skirt fall from her hips and pulled her against his chest to better reach her neck. “But I _like_ them.”

            “I didn’t know you had a panty kink, Roy. They better not be in a drawer with a bunch of others.” She bit her lip and pulled him into the bed.

            He grinned and deftly unclasped her bra, tossing it aside. “If I had a panty kink, I wouldn’t have let you keep the ones Catherine Elle foisted upon me for my birthday.” His mouth closed around a nipple, and Riza’s fingers gently raked across his scalp.

            “Those were new,” she whispered breathlessly, “It’s not the same.”

            Roy kicked off his boxer shorts and tugged down her panties. “You sure know an awful lot about this. Maybe _you_ have a panty kink? I mean, you _did_ take mine, and those were a _gift._ ” Riza sucked in a lungful of air, and he groaned as he slid inside of her. She was always so ready, and he never ceased to be amazed by it.

            “Want them back?” Her legs wrapped around him, and she arched her back helpfully.

            “I doubt they’d fit me, Riza, and like you said, they’re new, and it’s not the same.” His hand ghosted up her side and into her hair. His mouth captured hers, and he squeezed his eyes shut. The feel and taste of her all around him stole his senses. Roy couldn’t believe he’d chosen to leave her behind in favor of academia. What had he been thinking?

            He kissed her cheeks and temple before sucking the soft skin of her neck into his mouth. “To be honest, they don’t fit me either. Catherine Elle is tiny, and I couldn’t even get them around my waist.”

            Roy snorted and stifled a laugh. “Are we really talking about panties another girl gave me while having sex in your bed?”

            Riza turned his head to face her. “I like that I can talk to you. What we do is about you and me. There isn’t anyone else I can have this with. She or anyone else can give you all the panties in the world, and it won’t matter.”

            He kissed her again and hastened his pace. “I love you,” Roy whispered against her lips.

            When, much later, Riza walked Roy to the front door, they made the discovery that the puppy was not, in fact, house trained.


	13. Chapter 13

            Chris Mustang’s living room was stacked with boxes, and it hadn’t escaped her attention that only three of them contained Roy’s clothing. The remainder were carefully filled with the late Doctor Hawkeye’s research that Riza had handed over shortly after his death. As much as she told herself she was prepared, Chris hated to see Roy leave the nest.

            A house to herself would be a good thing. She could finally… _do what?_ Chris hadn’t realized how much parenting Roy had become a part of her fabric. Of course, as all children do, her little nephew had grown up. He had a determined glint in his eye, and she wouldn’t hold him back. She knew once he returned home from a military career he insisted would be short, he wouldn’t be the boy anymore. Instead, he’d be a man, and his heart belonged to Riza now. In all likelihood, he’d move into her family home, and Chris wouldn’t get him back. Not really.

            An unflattering tear caught in her eye, and Chris snagged it with her fingertip before the thing could ruin her makeup. Ridiculous. Of course this day was coming. It always had been. A child hadn’t ever been in the cards for her, but she’d ended up with one anyway. And now he was leaving.

            Glancing at the photographs that littered the mantelpiece, Chris noted that Roy had grown to resemble his mother more than his father. Probably for the best, she surmised; her brother had a roguish face that often exuded a harshness. Roy’s countenance shone with an affable nature that concealed a quick cleverness and sharp mind. Doctor Hawkeye had seen his potential and helped lay the foundation of success. Chris hadn’t ever gotten the opportunity to thank the man for the influence. Only she herself and Hawkeye’s daughter were ever permitted to see the self-doubting center of Roy - the part of him that needed reassurance and hand holding.

            For Riza’s sake, she hoped the legislation to legalize private alchemy would pass quickly. Roy had sworn he’d resign his commission and come home as soon as the restrictive laws were lifted. Even so, he’d be away at least four years at the university. The situation in Ishval didn’t seem to be improving, and it worried her. Chris didn’t doubt the solidity of Roy’s devotion to her, but time had a way of changing things. Dreams that once seemed so strong to young eyes often bent under the weight of age.

* * *

 

            “You named him _what?_ ” Roy stared at Riza.

            “Black Hayate. I think he likes it.” She scratched the puppy lightly behind the ears, earning an adoring gaze from the lump of fur in her lap.

            “I think maybe you should’ve let me name him.” He tossed a handful of flower petals into the grass and plucked another dandelion from the ground.

            “You gave him to _me_. He’s _my_ dog, and I can call him what I want,” Riza huffed indignantly.

            “Okay, but any subsequent pets we have, _I’m_ naming them.” Roy stretched out in the grass and crossed his ankles. A breeze ruffled his hair and sent the swings in the playground into a gentle motion.

            “No more pets, Roy. One is enough.” Hayate rolled over, revealing his belly, and Riza acquiesced to a rub.

            “You two should get a room,” Roy mumbled.

            She laughed at him. “Your jealousy of this dog is very amusing.”

            “You think my wounded feelings are amusing?”

            “Oh, yes. _Very_.”

            Roy closed his eyes against the setting sun and frowned. “Some girlfriend you are.”

            Riza sighed and set the dog aside. Hayate started an investigation of a patch of clover as his mistress lay next to her boyfriend in the empty park. “How many more days?”

            “Five.”

            “That’s so short.” She draped herself across his chest and brushed the hair from his eyes. “They’re going to chop off your hair, put you in a uniform, and you won’t be the same when you come home.”

            “I knew you loved me only for my beautiful hair.” Roy’s eyes opened, and he grinned up at her.

            “Stop. This isn’t funny. I’m worried that while you’re gone, you’ll decide the world is a big, wide place, and you won’t want to come home.”

            His eyebrows flew up. “Is that what you think is going to happen? I’m more worried about you meeting some tall, dark, and handsome intellectual at college and deciding you don’t need me anymore.”

            Riza propped her chin on her wrists. “Ridiculous.”

            “What you said is ridiculous, too.”

            “It doesn’t _feel_ ridiculous.”

            Roy took her hand and kissed it. “Listen, it doesn’t matter what happens, Riza; the way I feel about you is a constant variable. It’s never going to change, no matter how big and wide the world is. You’re the axis my planet spins on.”

            “Can I come to your certification ceremony?”

            “I’d be offended if you didn’t, but you have to leave your furry boyfriend at home.”

            Riza laughed and weaved her fingers through his. “I don’t know, Roy; we’re pretty serious.”

            “I should’ve bought you a turtle.”

            “Nah, our babies would be horrific,” she giggled.

            “I’m not even gone yet, and you’re talking about babies with another man.”

            Riza sat up and straddled his lap. Her skirt rode up, exposing her thighs, and Roy’s hands found their way onto the smooth skin. “Do you remember when we were kids, and you’d bring me things you thought would make me smile? Let me tell you something, Roy Mustang, that very first time you shoved a sticky handful of yellow weed flowers and a crumbling lemon cake at me, I knew.”

            “You knew what?” he breathed.

            “I knew you were it.”

            _“It?”_

“Yes, _it_. I knew you’d be my last love, and that hasn’t changed. I was just a little girl, but I _knew_. It never bothered me that you saw other girls, and I’ve had my own firsts, too, but in the center of my heart, it’s always been you. These other boys were just stops on my way to you, and now you’re mine. I don’t ever plan on letting go.”

            “Promise?”

            Riza grabbed his hand and placed it in the center of her chest. “I promise.”

            Later, when he lay in the embrace of her legs and there was nothing but a sheen of sweat between them, Riza whispered in his ear that she loved him. She’d never said the words to him before, and Roy’s heart ached. He missed her already.

            Roy refused to spend his last days with Riza studying. His notes and books stayed safely taped into boxes until Maes helped him pack them into the trunk of his car.

            “It’s going to cost a small fortune to ship all these to East City, Roy. I bet you’ve got at least seventy-five pounds of stuff here.”

            Roy shrugged and slammed his trunk shut. “I want it all waiting for me, and I can’t afford to leave anything behind. There’s no way Riza or Aunt Chris would be able to tell what I needed, even if I described it in detail.”

            “You alchemists and your books.” Maes grinned and ducked into the passenger seat. “Are you nervous at all? It’s going to be a huge change.”

            “More than huge, and yeah, I’m nervous as hell. I keep thinking I’m going to fuck something up and be sent home.”

            “Nah, you’ll be fine,” Hughes smiled confidently. “If anyone can do it, you can. How’s Riza doing? I’m glad she didn’t murder you for keeping it a secret.”

            Roy sighed. “You and me both. She says she’s afraid I won’t come home.”

            “She thinks you’re going to die? You’re too young to be deployed to the border, I think.”

            “No, she thinks I’ll want to go off and forget about her or something. I don’t know.”

            “Oh, hey, speaking of Riza, you know who I saw the other day in the senate building?”

            “A bunch of boring old men in suits?” Roy mumbled as he pulled into the post office parking lot.

            “Well, that too, but no. Jason Miles. You remember him, right?”

            Roy’s jaw flexed. “The wrestler Riza dated before Havoc. Yeah, I remember that guy.”

            “Well, apparently he’s at the humanities college now and will have an internship with Senator Tucker soon. He’s the guy pushing so hard for legalizing private alchemy.”

            “Well, of course he goes there.” Roy stepped from his car and slammed the door. He had nothing against Miles, but the idea of Riza being on the same campus as him in a year rattled his cage.

            “Are you jealous, Roy?”

            “No, Hughes, I’m not jealous. I’m not jealous of Miles, and I’m not fucking jealous of Riza’s dog. I’m _fine._ ”

            Maes eyed Roy for a long moment before pulling open the trunk. “You’ve got to let it go, man. Don’t make things harder on yourself. If you start getting jealous and angry now, it’s only going to eat at you while you’re gone.”

            Roy sighed and leaned against the bumper of his car. “I’m not really jealous, Maes. I’m just frustrated that I can’t have my cake and eat it too. If I stayed and didn’t go to EUMA, I’d still have to wait until things change to practice alchemy. And even then, I won’t have access to the resources I saw when I was there. I _want_ to do this. I _have_ to. There isn’t anything that I want to study more, and the only place I can do it is five hours away on a train and dressed up like a soldier.”

            “Well, there’s your answer then. Riza will be here when you come home. I’ve seen her schedule for next year, and she’s going to be really busy. Maybe it’s for the best you guys have some time apart.”

            “You know, her dad gave me a bit of advice once, back when I was still with Becky. He told me I needed to find someone who had their own interests and obsessions. He said I’d always be in a tug-of-war with my partner if the person I was with didn’t understand me.”

            “Do you think he knew you’d be dating his daughter soon?”

            Roy looked over the boxes in the trunk. “Actually, I do. He never said anything specifically, but damn, there were a few times before he died that I swear he was hinting at me.”

            “It’ll be fine, Roy. You only have one chance to devote yourself to academia before life sticks you with responsibility. Like kids. Gracia wants kids.”

            Roy’s head whipped around, and he pulled a face. “Geez, Hughes, she doesn’t waste any time. You guys really talk about that stuff?”

            “Of course! Don’t you?” His friend was getting that mushy look he often had when the subject turned to Gracia. Roy shoved a box at him.

            “No. No we don’t. I got her a dog, and that was enough.” He led the way into the post office, with Hughes trailing behind.

            “One day, though, Roy. One day, you’ll have little blonde and black-haired kids running around that giant yard of hers, and I’ll say _I told you so_.”

            Roy rolled his eyes. He did _not_ want children _any_ time soon. It was bad enough he had to share Riza with Hayate. The last thing he wanted to think about was a pack of clingy kids stealing her attention away from him even more.

            The morning of his departure was overcast, and Roy thought it suited his mood. His aunt made him breakfast, but his stomach felt too queasy to eat any of it. She hugged him tightly before watching him climb into Riza’s car from the front steps of the house. He hated that she looked so sad, and he realized that as long as he’d been living with her, he never thought of himself as an orphan. Chris Mustang had been his mother, his father, and everything in between. She’d woven him a safety net that couldn’t ever be replaced. The thought of leaving her behind weighed him down even more.

            Riza held him fiercely on the train platform, and he felt her tears through his shirt. “It kills me when you cry, Riza,” he whispered into her hair.

            “I can’t help it. I didn’t realize until just now that you’d actually be leaving. I haven’t been without you since before my mom died.”

            “I’ll come home for winter break. It’s only a few months. Please don’t cry. I don’t want to remember you this way.”

            She sniffled and smiled up at him. It wasn’t a full smile. “Five months. That’s more than a few, Roy.”

            “Don’t rain on my parade. Tell Hayate that I’ll make a hat out of him if anything happens to you.”

            Riza smoothed his shirt and leaned up for a kiss. “I’ll do no such thing.” She pressed her lips to his and sighed. “Come back to me, okay?”

            An ear-shattering whistle sounded, and Roy pulled back from her. “I promise.” He kept his eyes on her as long as he could. Eventually, she disappeared, and Roy felt utterly alone.


	14. Chapter 14

            He’d never quite gotten over her. Not really. Of course, at the time, he’d tried to understand her reasons for breaking up with him. Readying himself for graduation didn’t leave a lot of time for keeping a girlfriend happy. Jason Miles would always regret those lost months. Riza hadn’t been single for long, either. No, she’d been snatched up pretty quickly by that sophomore runner, Havoc. He’d expected no less, though; Riza was special. _Too_ special for that moron with a cigarette always poking from his mouth, and if Jason was feeling particularly irksome he’d go on to resent her odd friendship with known womanizer, Roy Mustang.

            The two of them were an equation he’d never managed to solve when he’d still been a student at Central Amestris Academy. Why would Riza waste her time with a friend like that? The second Mustang stepped through the doors of the academy, he’d had a different girl on his arm every few weeks. At first, Jason assumed Riza was a love sick groupie left over from middle school, but it quickly became clear that was not the case at all. She held a sway over him that buggered the imagination. What initially appeared as Riza revolving around an indifferent sun turned out to be the opposite. Mustang seemed to orbit _her_. The two of them behaved as siblings, but the dynamic wasn’t quite familial as there was an ambiguous undercurrent of affection inappropriate for a brother and sister. Riza paid no mind to Roy’s dalliances and often acted as if the other girls were invisible.

            Miles puzzled for weeks over their relationship before making his feelings for her known. With total disregard for the age difference between them, Jason swooped in when he caught her after archery practice one afternoon intently reading an article in a political magazine. She surprised him with her knowledge of current events, and his crush on her bloomed quicker than lilies left in the sun. To his surprise, she reciprocated his advances with no hesitation. Of course, the unsettling subtext between Riza and Mustang never went away, but he did his best to drown it out. Jason hadn’t dated a fellow student so far behind him before, and he took some initial ribbing from his peers, chiefly the guys on the wrestling team. Basque Grand called him a cradle robber, but only under his breath. For reasons unbeknownst to Miles, Grand avoided Riza with a perplexing alacrity. Never one to care too much about public opinion, Jason continued to chase after her, and the gossip eventually died down.

            The one summer he’d spent with her hadn’t been forgotten, even in the three years it had been since. Jason Miles wasn’t the type of guy who counted notches on his bedpost or bragged about the number of flowers he’d de-petaled, but he felt certain Riza hadn’t been with anyone before him. Firsts were supposed to mean something, and even if she hadn’t been _his_ first lover, he still felt the connection. Perhaps it had been unbecoming to allow his emotions to erupt in such an unabashedly volcanic way, but when he told her he loved her, he’d meant it. _I know you think I shouldn’t be held back by a high school girlfriend, Riza, but you’re wrong. When you catch up to me, I’ll prove it._

Seeing her name on the list of advanced placement students applying for university mentors swelled Jason’s chest with hope. He could win her back. Fuck Mustang. He wouldn’t even be around if the rumors of his early acceptance to the military university could be trusted. Not that Miles wanted to _lure_ her away; she wasn’t a child wandering a forest, and he definitely wasn’t a wolfish predator with a basket of candy. He just wanted her back.

            Riza’s ability to tuck away personal information and emotions hampered his efforts to feel out the boundaries during her final year at the academy. She carefully steered their conversations away from the territory he wanted most to explore and never once offered clues to the state of her relationship. She’d been asked often by classmates or teachers how Mustang was getting along in his new environment, but her answers were always perfectly appropriate. Jason wasn’t completely ignorant. He knew they’d begun dating before Roy’s transfer; a few well-placed questions to other students in their study group confirmed that, but the tone of reply was always mildly incredulous. As if he’d casually asked if cheese _truly_ belonged with crackers.

            Miles wouldn’t give up, though. He didn’t graduate for another two years, and he already had one big advantage. Presence. He was ready to prove himself more worthy than a childhood friend who’d left her behind to chase blue uniform skirts instead of black pleated ones.

* * *

 

            Roy impatiently drummed his fingers on the armrest to his right. Briefly, he considered simply burning a neat hole right through the wall of the train car and exiting on his own time instead of waiting his proper turn. Of course, that would likely end with a jail cell instead of the passenger seat of his aunt’s car. With a deep, cleansing breath, he calmed himself. Riza wouldn’t be out of school yet, anyway, and his agitation would go unhampered for another several hours.

            Returning home the day after his classes had concluded for the year was an attempt to make up for staying on campus over his winter and spring holidays. He’d been invited to participate in an extracurricular group that only met when the professor was free from regular responsibilities, and he didn’t feel that declining the invitation would’ve spoken well of his interest in alchemy. Roy could feel Riza’s disappointment over the phone, even if her words had been encouraging. His ideas for handling their separation weren’t going as he’d expected.

            Missing her graduation hadn’t ever been an option in his mind. Roy had always planned on attending, but after Hughes dropped the Miles Bomb on him, he’d resolved to not only be there front and center, but _early_. Apparently, Riza’s university tutor turned out to be her former boyfriend, Jason Miles, and according to Maes, the guy still carried a very perceptible torch for her. Roy knew jealousy didn’t look good on him, and while Riza would tolerate a few jokes at her dog’s expense, horning in on the company she kept while trying to get into college wouldn’t help their already-strained, long-distance relationship. So he vowed to not say one word about Miles and would make his points with actions instead of meaningless arguments.

            Chris Mustang greeted him on the platform with a tight hug. “Well, the prodigal child returns,” she said with a smirk.

            Roy grinned sheepishly and didn’t protest when she straightened the collar of his military uniform.

            “You don’t look much like the boy I sent away anymore, Roy. I suppose none of your old shirts will fit you now.”

            “Are you saying I’ve gotten fat, Aunt Chris?” Roy slung his bag over his shoulder and followed her from the station. He knew he hadn’t gained weight. If anything, the physical fitness requirements of the military, which included an uphill run every morning, had shed a few pounds off his body.

            “Not fat, kid. Just bigger. Maybe Riza will take you shopping.” Chris glanced back at him with a sly grin. “If she’ll speak to you, that is. If I were her, I’d want to punish you a little for not coming home once until now.”

            His stomach clenched as he tossed his bag into Chris’s trunk. “I hope she hasn’t been squirreling away anger for all these months. I know she’s disappointed with me.”

            “I’m kidding, Roy. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you. At the very least, your presence will give her a break from that shadow of hers.”

            “Shadow?”

            His aunt tossed him an annoyed glance. “That Jason Miles is always sniffing around her porch, and I think she’s near the end of her polite exasperation.”

            “It’s that bad, huh?” Roy tried to squelch his irritation with a neutral reply. “Well, I don’t doubt Riza can handle herself. If he came on too strongly, I’m sure she’d let him know. She hasn’t ever needed me to be her white knight like that.”

            “You’re missing the point, kid. It can be tiresome for a lady to keep pointing to a boyfriend who’s far away and never comes home. Sometimes, a simple _I’m not interested_ isn’t enough to avert a determined man.”

            “Are you saying Miles is… _aggressive?_ ”

            “No, I’m saying I think she’ll be glad you’re home. Nothing sends a message like visual confirmation of unavailability. Riza has worked very hard this year to earn her distinguished graduation, and she doesn’t need the added frustration of a panting ex-boyfriend.”

            “Have you seen her much, then?”

            “She and I have spent some time together, yes. Most of what I hear regarding young Mister Miles comes from the grousing of her grandfather.”

            Roy fidgeted as he processed the information. He remembered Miles being rather intense back when they were classmates, but he’d been too distracted by his own interests at the time to notice how far gone the boy was on his best friend. Their first year at the academy had been a whirlwind of changes and new experiences. Now, he wished he’d paid more attention.

            His aunt’s house appeared exactly the same from the outside, and Roy was grateful. His life felt upheaved, and he needed some semblance of continuity. “Are you hungry, kid?” Chris called from the kitchen.

            “Not really. I think I want a nap, to be honest.”

            “Will you be around tonight, or are you staying with Riza? She’ll have school tomorrow, you know. Graduation isn’t until next week.”

            Roy closed his eyes and settled into the couch. “I think that depends on her.”

            “Well, I’m working tonight so just make sure you lock the place up if you won’t be here.” Chris leaned over the back of the couch and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You get some rest, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

            He heard her fumbling in the coat closet and through her bag before opening the front door. Roy’s eyes snapped open. “Hey, Aunt Chris?”

            “What is it, kid?”

            “Does Riza still have that car?”

            “I haven’t heard anything to prove otherwise, so I assume she does. Why?”

            Roy quickly stood and straightened his uniform. “Do you think you could drop me at the academy before heading uptown?”

            A grin crept across Chris’s face as she held the front door open. “I think I could manage that.”

            The front courtyard hadn’t changed at all in the last ten months, and Roy planted himself on a shaded bench closest to the student parking lot entrance. He had an hour before dismissal and enjoyed the familiar sights of his hometown in the meantime.

            A voice broke through his reverie. “ _Roy Mustang?_ Is that you? Holy shit, I barely recognized you in that uniform!” A hurricane of dark brown hair and pink lycra flew at him, and Roy braced himself.

            “Hey, Becky, how’ve you been?” He returned her hug, and when she pulled away, her face was plastered with a surprised smile. She tossed her dance bag on the grass beside his bench and sat down with him.

            “I’m great! I got a sweet scholarship to the fine arts college up north, and my mom is hassling the fuck out of me about leaving already.”

            “Wow, that’s pretty impressive. I’m happy for you.”

            Rebecca leaned back against the bench. “Thanks, Roy. How’s the military been treating you?”

            “I’m exhausted most of the time, to be honest, and I don’t have nearly the amount of free time I thought I would.”

            “I noticed you didn’t come home at all this year and wondered if you and Riza were fighting.” Rebecca’s lips quirked; she never did bother with subtlety.

            “No, it’s nothing like that. There’s a lot of competition amongst alchemy students, and I was invited to a program that only met during holiday breaks. I think Riza was annoyed with me, but it couldn’t be helped.” He fidgeted with the fabric of his pants and frowned.

            “I don’t think she was annoyed with you, Roy,” she spoke softly, “I think it was a combination of her missing you and Jason hanging around. He’s one of the AP tutors this year, and the way he looks at Riza is _incredibly_ obvious.”

            “Yeah, Hughes told me about that, and my aunt drove the point home as soon as I stepped off the train.”

            “Listen, Riza wouldn’t ever go behind your back, alright? But I think she’s felt your absence more than she likes to let on. It’s not just Jason; it’s everything.”

            “Everything?”

            Rebecca smirked. “You were always a little dense, Roy. Brilliant, maybe, but dense. Let me spell it out for you, okay? You guys have been close for a long time, and then, suddenly, you’re five hours apart. Riza doesn’t just miss her boyfriend, she misses everything you are to her.”

            “Do you think I’m an asshole?”

            “Nope. I just think long distance is hard, and even harder for people like you who were friends for so long first. Just be sensitive to whatever she leaves out when you talk to her.” Rebecca hefted her bag from the ground and onto her shoulder. “Does she know you’re here?”

            Roy smiled up at her. “Not at all.”

            “Good boy. I’m sure she’ll come straight from the library, and that means Jason will likely be tailing her.” She turned to head inside the building. “By the way, wearing that uniform was a great idea. You look delicious in it!” Rebecca waved a final time before disappearing into the brick building.

            The dismissal bell rang before Roy could absorb everything Rebecca had said to him, and as students filed from the academy doors, he was approached by several surprised friends. Maes clapped him on the back, Breda made a joke about his uniform, and even Havoc shook his hand. For a moment, it felt like he hadn’t left at all. Roy’s eyes flit back and forth from the group of gathering people and the doors.

            “She’ll be out soon enough, Roy. Don’t worry.” Hughes laughed and helped him clear the crowd.

            “Do I look like I’m worried?”

            Maes didn’t hesitate in the slightest. “Yes. It’s a little pathetic, to be honest.”

            “You’re an asshole, Hughes.”

            “And I always will be!”

            Roy glanced again at the doors and thought his heart would jump from his body when he saw Riza. Her hair was swept up into a messy bun, and she clutched a stack of thick books to her chest. Jason Miles held the door open for her, but Riza didn’t wait for him to join her before moving through the crowd. Her eyes found Roy when she reached the edge of the concrete stairs leading down into the courtyard. Her face broke out into a grin, and she dashed at him, not sparing a backwards glance at her companion. Maes kindly accepted the stack of books she thrust at him to wrap her arms around Roy’s middle.

            “Hey, Riza,” he said quietly into her hair.

            She sniffled and pulled away to look up at him with a hint of mist in her eyes. “You’re taller. I guess that’s okay.”

            Roy chuckled. “You guess? I can’t help it, you know.”

            Riza’s arms wound their way around his neck, and she stood on her toes to press her face into the skin just above his collar. “I’m so glad you’re here, Roy. I was worried you’d take your time coming home.”

            “I couldn’t stay away,” he whispered.

            She finally released him and took her books back from Hughes. “Thanks, Maes.”

            He smiled and stepped back. “I’m happy to help. I’ll let you guys have some space, but this weekend is fair game, though!”

            Roy slid Riza’s backpack from her shoulders and smiled down at her. “Ready to go? I don’t have a car, so I’m at your mercy.”

            She grinned up at him. “My mercy, huh? You may regret that later.”

            “Do your worst, Riza; I look forward to it.”

            “Come on, let’s get out of here before the freshman female population collectively dies at the sight of you in this uniform. There’s a group of them over by the flagpole that’ve had you in their sights since I came out here. They may murder me and abduct you.”

            “Wild horses couldn’t drag me away from you, Riza. I’m yours until the end of the summer at least.”

            “I’ll have to make good use of my time until Lady Alchemy begins her siren song anew, then.” Riza leaned up again and kissed him soundly. Her lips still tasted of the same peppermint lip balm, and he felt intoxicated.

            Her hand slipped into his, and despite their new height difference, it fit perfectly. As they made their way across the parking lot, Roy swallowed a surge of smugness at the sight of Jason Miles walking towards his car alone.


	15. Chapter 15

            Shou Tucker had been called many things over the course of his career in government, and not all of them were complimentary. Most recently, the news reports detailing his efforts to legalize private alchemy practice dubbed him _dogged, uncompromising_ , and - his personal favorite - _indefatigable_. He’d known the road would be long and filled with potholes at the onset, but Senator Tucker had taken an oath, and his constituents, as well as the majority of Amestrian citizens, wanted new legislation. So he would fight.

            Hidden behind the obvious public benefits of freely available alchemic practice, such as foreign relations - specifically with Ishval - non-weaponized developments, and an entirely new economy surrounding base components, Shou had a few personal motives. As a boy, he’d wanted to study alchemy and even went so far as to seek entrance into the State Alchemist program. His father had been significantly less than thrilled. He didn’t want a soldier for a son, and a young Shou was forced to watch as his materials were burned in the stone fireplace of the senior Tucker’s study. Defying the old man’s wishes, he left home for East City armed with a basic knowledge and fierce determination.

            Upon arrival, though, he immediately saw the fatal flaw of his plan. Standing beside brilliant cadets like Berthold Hawkeye and Frank Archer, Shou knew he wasn’t any competition. The military was a young man’s game, and even if he managed to secure a master to teach him, his age would likely bar him from any significant career once he could hold his own next to someone as skilled as the Flame Alchemist. The blow to his ego had been difficult to overcome.

            A position in government provided him with the funds and connections to privately amass a collection of alchemic texts. Over the years, he’d been able to _experiment_ a bit, and though his findings were inconsistent and fairly unsuccessful, Shou felt confident that with a wide open market, he’d be able to properly showcase his work. Of course, if his hobbies were discovered, he knew the chances for legalization would be set back significantly, but Senator Tucker was nothing if not discrete.

            After all, the death of his father had gone off without a hitch, hadn’t it? Old houses were full of faulty electrical components, and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t warned the old man numerous times of the frayed tangles of wires in the basement. The blaze had been so glorious that the bones he’d planted and left to burn were nothing but blackened shards.

            Tucker’s own basement was pristine. The metal bars of the cages gleamed in the overhead lighting, and the soundproofing was really a work of art on his part. The enhancements had been necessary after the chimera creature’s death. His father hadn’t been a prime specimen anyway, and it wasn't _too_ big of a loss, but Shou couldn’t have his neighbors poking around inquiring after a dying animal on his property. Too many curious eyes and ears would invite the wrong sort of attention. A pity his wife was such a neat freak. He _had_ warned her to stay out of his basement office. The new chimera’s abilities were much more advanced, even if the damn thing refused to eat.

            Regardless of his personal stake, Senator Tucker would see the legislation through. He wouldn’t be accused of neglecting his district. His young intern, Jason Miles, was promising, and his Ishvalan heritage certainly lent an air authenticity to any arguments he presented regarding the border conflicts. Surely with alchemy legalized in the private sectors, and concessions on the part of Amestrian military to not transmute outside of its own borders, diplomacy could move forward. The public wouldn’t tolerate a war.

            That was all Shou Tucker really wanted. A free and peaceful Amestris, where he could pursue his interests without threat of imprisonment. His daughter deserved a world as bright as all that.

* * *

 

            Roy’s head pounded. He’d never been much of a drinker, but the evening following the academy’s graduation ceremony, he’d indulged. The throbbing between his temples told him it had been far too much. Not enough to erase the previous night’s activities, though. He certainly remembered Riza pulling off his clothes when they’d secured her front door behind them. Roy didn’t think he’d ever forget her fingernails on his chest or the unrestrained way she’d dragged him into her bed _or_ her mouth on his neck. He’d be surprised if he wasn’t covered in hickeys. Despite his headache, he grinned. Riza would have a matching red mark on the inside of her thigh, so he supposed he wouldn’t mind the splotches.

            “Hey.” He nudged the body next to him, buried beneath the blankets.

            “No,” Riza mumbled and hid her face under another pillow.

            “No? I didn’t ask anything.” Roy sat up and regretted it.

            “No to talking and being awake in general.”

            He glanced at the clock beside the bed and groaned. “It’s almost noon, and we’re supposed to have lunch with my aunt today.” Roy dragged himself from the cocoon of the bed and watched as Riza wasted no time in moving into his vacated spot. “I need a shower.”

            “Don’t use all the hot water, or I’ll have to murder you.” She yawned before hiding under the blankets again.

            Roy did not, in fact, use any hot water. In his opinion, hangovers were best handled by cold showers, aspirin, and plenty of fluids. He hadn’t brought any of his own soap, and Riza’s lavender body wash would have to do. If he planned on staying with her any longer, he’d have to remember to purchase basic necessities; her toothpaste was far too _minty_ for his liking. When he returned to her bedroom, she was hunched over the edge of her bed.

            “Morning, sunshine!”

            The glare she gave him could’ve curdled milk.

            “You’ll feel better after a shower. I’ll even get you some water and pills so you can face the world.”

            “How are you so chipper? You had just as much to drink as I did.” Riza disengaged from the tangle of sheets and grabbed her robe.

            “Maybe it’s my superpower.”

            “Well, tone it down over there, Hangover Man. The mortals need time to catch up.” She stalked past him and into the bathroom. Roy had just pulled on clean pants when the doorbell rang from downstairs.

            “Hey, Riza, want me to get that?”

            She didn’t answer, so he poked his head into the bathroom.

            “Someone’s here. Do you want me to get the door or just ignore it?”

            “I’m not expecting anybody, so I guess you can see who it is. I’ll be out in a minute.”

            Roy tugged a t-shirt over his head and debated gathering the trail of discarded clothes leading upstairs from the night before and tossing them into the laundry but, ultimately, left them on the floor. It wasn’t likely anyone would actually need to come inside. Black Hayate leapt excitedly around his feet, begging to be let outside, and as he slid open the glass panel leading to the backyard, the doorbell rang again. Roy huffed in annoyance. When he opened the front door, it took him a moment to process.

            “Oh, uh, hey, Miles. What can I do for you?” He slid his hands into his pockets and casually leaned against the door frame. Jason Miles stood on the porch, clutching a banker’s box. Roy supposed he could’ve invited him in, but the look on his face made it clear that Miles hadn’t expected Riza to have company.

            “Hey there, Mustang. I didn’t see your car in the driveway.”

            Roy’s lips twitched into a crooked grin. “Yeah, it’s not here. Riza has a car now, so I didn’t think I needed it.”

            “I see. Well, is she here?”

            “Yep. She’s in the shower.” Roy jerked his chin over his shoulder. “Is that box for her? I can take it if you want.” When he turned back to Miles, his gaze was trained on Roy’s neck and the marks Riza had left there.

            “I’d rather give it to her, if you don’t mind,” he said tersely, “Some of it needs explaining.”

            “Well, I suppose you can wait in the dining room.” Roy pulled the door open wide and allowed Miles to step past him. He did his best not to smirk at the way Jason’s eyes roved over the various articles of clothing. “I’ll go and pull her from the shower and let her know you’re here.” Miles all but glared at him. “Sorry about the mess. Late night party, you know.” Roy left him in the front hall outside of the dining room and stifled a laugh to himself.

            He found Riza running her fingers through damp hair in front of the mirror. She smiled weakly. “Who was at the door?”

            “Miles.”

            She frowned and turned her back to him. “Can you zip this dress?” Roy pulled the zipper up and brushed his lips against her shoulder. “What did he want?”

            “I don’t know. He’s downstairs with a box of something I’m sure he thinks is important.”

            Riza sighed loudly and glanced at herself in the mirror once more before sliding past Roy back into her bedroom.

            “I’m not a State Alchemist yet, but I could probably char him for you.”

            “You should stop offering to do these hits on the irritating men in my life. One day I might just take you up on it.”

            “It would be my pleasure,” Roy whispered in her ear as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. “By the way, this dress is a crime.”

            “It’s just a sundress, Roy.” She turned and kissed his cheek. “You wouldn’t be so impressed with it if you’d come home more often.”

            “You’re a temptress.” He hid his face in her exposed neck.

            “We’ll talk about this later. Apparently, I have company. Hopefully, he can be disposed of quickly; I’m starting to get hungry.”

            Roy grabbed his shoes and the sandals Riza left out by her closet before following her downstairs. Once again, he considered doing something about the dirty clothes but decided Miles shouldn’t be spared the sight of them. In the kitchen, he filled two glasses of water and shook four tablets from a bottle of aspirin. Riza smiled gratefully at him when he delivered her half to the dining room. She pressed her fingers to her forehead and looked to be making a valiant attempt to pay attention to whatever Miles was saying. She didn’t last long.

            “Jason, I’m so sorry to have to do this, but my head is absolutely pounding, and I can’t really concentrate on any of this. Can we wait to talk about it until next week?” She smiled poorly at him, and Roy watched Miles deflate. “Graduation was yesterday, and I had quite a bit to drink last night, so I’m just not in mint condition right now.”

            “Uh, of course. I didn’t mean to make you miserable or intrude.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets awkwardly and glanced at Roy, who couldn’t contain his smile. “I’ll just see you at study group next week. Entrance exams aren't for a month, so it’s not a big deal.”

            “I’m sorry that you came all the way out here. I just can’t handle a lot of hard thinking right now.” She escorted Miles to the front door and slumped against it when he’d finally gone. Roy pulled her into his chest. “Do you see how exhausting he is?” Riza mumbled against him.

            “I do, and I’m sorry. I could still barbecue him for you.”

            She laughed and wrapped her arms tightly around him. “Speaking of barbecue, can we go to the restaurant now? I’m sure your aunt wants to see you, and I’m seriously starving.”

            “Would you mind terribly if I stayed with her for a few days? You can come too, and I _suppose_ the dog.”

            “Poor Hayate. I can’t believe you’re still hung up on a dog that _you_ brought me, by the way.”

            Roy laughed and pulled away. “I’ve come to terms with him. He’s done a pretty decent job of looking after you, even if he hasn’t ripped Miles to shreds yet. We can work on that.”

            “You won’t be turning my fur baby into a killer. He’s a sweet boy, and I like him just the way he is.”

            Roy followed her through the kitchen and leaned against the counter as she let the dog back into the house. He tamped down the old jealousy when she crouched and gave Hayate a thorough scratch. “Be a good boy while I’m gone, and you can have a treat later. We’ll be guests tonight, and you have to behave.”

            “Do _I_ get a treat later?” Roy huffed when she grabbed his hand to leave.

            Riza laughed. “I have a sizable hickey on my inner thigh from the last treat I gave you. Don’t be greedy.”

            “To be fair, the marks you left on me out number the one I left on you.” Roy slid into the passenger seat of her car. “I’d say that makes you greedier than me.” Riza only winked at him before pulling out of her driveway.

            The summer passed lazily at first, and for a fleeting moment, Roy felt it might never end. He was content in the delusion that the sunny afternoons and quiet evenings he spent in Riza’s company would stretch on, and his return to East City was somewhere in the distant future. As the weeks rolled by and autumn drew near, he felt her grip tighten anxiously and realized their time was drawing short. He hated the anticipation of leaving her behind once again.

            “Are you nervous?” he asked. They sat side by side on an unoccupied playground structure.

            Riza turned to him and smiled. “About what?”

            Roy reached out and touched her hair. The setting sun had set it aflame, and the strands begged to have his fingers in them. “Starting college soon. It’ll be a huge change.”

            She leaned into him and sighed. “Not really. It’s still school, just in a different place.” Riza drew his hand into her lap. “I miss you already, and not just the part where I can have you in my bed or on my couch.”

            He laughed and kissed her neck. “That stuff isn’t your favorite?” He’d only been joking, but her serious expression sobered him.

            “No, it isn’t. I miss you being _here_ next to me. I miss _you_.” Riza’s gaze followed Hayate playing with the small children around the park. “So many times this past year I would turn around, expecting you to be there, and it was hard to see your space empty. I had ideas and thoughts, and no one to share them with.”

            “Riza,” he whispered, “You can call me anytime. If I’m in my room, I’ll always take your call.”

            “It’s not the same; you know it isn’t.” She kept her face turned from him and swiped at a tear. “I know I’m being stupid and needy, but I can’t help it.”

            “You’re _not_ being stupid.” Roy pulled her closer into his side and pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “Why don’t you talk to me now? Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

            She didn’t answer him for a long moment, and he let her have the silence. “There were really three main things.”

            “What’s the biggest one?”

            Riza threaded her fingers through his and took a deep breath. “Well, I was thinking about maybe sorting through my dad’s bedroom. I wanted to pack up everything of his I’d like to keep and donate the rest. And…” she paused and chewed on her lip, “I kind of wanted to move into the master bedroom. Do you think that’s awful of me?”

            “I don’t think it’s awful. It’s your house, and of course you should do what you want with it. I also think it would be good for you to go through his things. I never really had that opportunity to get to know my parents that way, and I kind of wish I had.”

            She nodded.

            “If you want, we could get some boxes tomorrow, and I’ll help you.”

            “Thanks, Roy. I’d like that. I don’t want to do it alone, and I don’t think I’d want anyone else in there with me but you.” She turned to him and kissed him softly.

            “What else has been on your mind?”

            “I think that’s enough for now. The rest of it can wait.” Riza smiled and leaned back against his side as her bare feet dangled and brushed the tufts of grass and clover below.


	16. Chapter 16

            As much as Edward hated to admit it, he liked Roy Mustang. Even though there was a four year age difference between them, he felt Mustang was really his only _peer_ at the university. Certainly there were other talented alchemists, Kimblee in particular, but Edward wouldn’t put himself on the same shelf as the cadet with a grin that made his skin crawl. Roy shared his disgruntled view of alchemy suppression and didn’t seem to want to be a soldier any more than he did. If Edward was given a choice, he’d always choose to collaborate with Mustang over anyone else.

            Over the last few months, the political environment had galvanized, and it seemed he might be on his way home sooner than later. Senator Tucker had managed to gain more support in the senate and the backing of local laborers who wanted to cash in on the projected economy for alchemic materials. The previous evening, Edward had listened with an attentive ear to a radio journalist give an optimistic time frame of three to four years until total legalization. His father didn’t share his excitement; his concerns were financial. Even if Edward established a private practice, how would he bolster the family in a rural area such as Resembool? The barter system still outplayed hard cash in some circles, and one couldn’t pay for electricity and sewage with bushels of wool.

            Edward wasn’t as ignorant as Hoenheim assumed, though. He had a plan. He wanted to experiment and research. With an open market, advances were sure to be made! The military provided innumerable resources for a student such as himself, but the path always led to the same destination. _How can your specialty be used for the military?_

            Cadets like Kimblee had no problems answering questions like that. He liked to blow things up, and the military was happy to oblige. Edward truly hoped that war with Ishval never broke out. A skill like Kimblee’s would be devastating. His own mind was wired for knowledge attainment, and in the late night hours, he’d confessed to Winry his desire to travel to Xing. Alkahestry was fascinating, and the potential of medical application excited him. Edward felt lucky to have someone like her in his life. She would always be his home regardless of how far he wandered. Soon enough he’d be free, even if the in-between time dragged.

            More than once, Edward had been present for a not-so-subtle inquiry into Mustang’s research. Elemental alchemy was prized and dangerous. He respected Roy’s desire to hold his cards close, even if he _was_ quite curious himself. The gloves alone were fascinating. Who wouldn’t want to slip their hand inside the rough material and have the ability to create a wall of flame at will? Of course, Edward didn’t have the intrinsic knowledge of gasses to operate them, but the temptation was there all the same.

            The first time Mustang demonstrated the level of pinpoint accuracy he was capable of, Edward had been astonished. He’d watched Roy carefully fold three origami balloons and line them up on the edge of his dorm room desk. With an effortless smirk that belied the concentration set into his brow, Mustang slid a white glove over his hand and snapped. The middle balloon burst into a quickly dying flame, leaving behind nothing but floating wisps of ash. _I can do that with just about anything I’m familiar with. Paper is easy because the composition is simple. Other targets are more… complicated._

Edward understood immediately what Mustang meant when he’d said _other targets_. The true purpose of their studies always lurked beneath the excitedly bubbling surface of newly acquired skill.

* * *

 

            Over the past two years, Roy had earned himself a privilege amongst his classmates, superiors, and professors. As far as he could tell, he only had one serious rival. After graduating from the Central Amestris Academy, Zolf Kimblee had taken up residence in the university. His range of study came too close to his own specialty for Roy’s liking. Kimblee had a knack for pyrotechnics, and the glee on his face when he successfully executed an array was disturbing. All too often, he’d caught Kimblee lurking in the hallways outside his dorm with a barrage of questions laced with a friendliness Roy knew didn’t exist between them. Twice, he’d had the locks on his door changed.

            Roy was dining alone in an empty lab surrounded by books and equipment when a thundering blast rocked the walls. He had no reason to assume anything, but his chest clenched with a knowing anxiety. He left his belongings and sprinted down the hallway and across a courtyard. Smoke poured out of the south dormitory building, and he just _knew_.

            Military police swarmed the area, but Roy slipped past them and into his wing. Smoke billowed from a familiar staircase, and he pulled the collar of his undershirt over his nose and mouth. With watering eyes and a lungful of poisonous air, Roy’s heart sank. He couldn’t see much, but there were only a handful of occupied rooms on this floor. The two other soldiers he shared the hall with weren’t alchemy students and didn’t have possession of any sensitive materials. _Of course_ the blast had originated from his room.

            Before he could reach his destination, a rough hand on his shoulder restrained him. A masked face shouted, “Get out of here, cadet! How the hell did you sneak past the barricade? Downstairs, _now!_ ”

            “Sir, I believe the explosion came from my room, and there’s-” His words were strangled by coughs.

            “You can inspect your room when the fire marshal gives the all-clear! Get outside!”

            “But-”

            The hand on his shoulder grabbed a handful of uniform. “Did I fucking stutter, soldier? Tear your ass, or I’ll toss you out myself!” Roy was shoved toward the staircase and begrudgingly followed orders.

            The sunlight hurt his eyes, and a medic took his arm as he stumbled from the building. “That was very foolish, Cadet Mustang. Please have a seat and clear your lungs.” Roy hung his head and lowered himself to a concrete planter on the far end of the courtyard.

            “Such a shame, Mustang. Destruction of personal space so far from home must be a serious blow for you,” Kimblee’s voice oozed into his ear.

            “Shut the fuck up, Kimblee,” Roy choked out. His throat burned and breathing hurt.

            “Of course, a genius like you shouldn’t have any trouble moving forward without your boxes of cheat sheets.”

            Roy clenched his fists and accepted the oxygen mask thrust at him by the concerned medic.

            “Not all of us were so lucky to be a famous teacher’s pet. Looks like the playing field has been leveled.”

            Kimblee strutted off, and Roy’s blood boiled. Exploding his way into a private room seemed too showy, even for an attention hound like Zolf. Surely he wouldn’t be so brash and confident in his place at the university to attempt such a giant invasion of privacy. Blaming him didn’t feel exactly right, but the knowing grin on his face clawed at Roy. He needed to see the damage to determine the cause of the blast, and if it was alchemic in nature, he’d know right away. Transmutation left behind trace markings that were unmistakable.

            It was several hours before Roy was allowed back into the building, with an escort, and the fire marshal explained his assumptions had been correct. His dormitory room door had been the source of the blast. The surrounding wall was covered in tiny indentations proving alchemy had been used, but no arrays could be found. He didn’t care about the destruction so much as the large expanses of empty floor space. Every last one of the boxes containing Doctor Hawkeye’s research was gone.

            Roy didn’t actually need Hawkeye’s books and papers anymore. He’d committed their contents to memory very early on and now relied on his own notes and the materials held in the university’s library. However, the thought of someone with malicious intent getting their hands on the research terrified him. Flame alchemy and its application could have massively destructive results, and slowly, he understood why Hawkeye left the military to pursue his studies independently and secretly.

            Weeks passed with no real information as to the person responsible for the explosion. Roy hated the way Kimblee smirked at him when they came into a rare contact but still refused to believe the cadet was the source. Kimblee preferred his ostentatious pyrotechnics to a simple flame skill, and said so loudly and often. Roy was assigned a new dorm space, and he didn’t bother with door locks. Why should he when his private room could be invaded so easily? Riza did not agree with this decision and voiced her dissent frequently.

            “You aren’t going to try and tell me I can’t come, are you?” Riza’s voice over the phone was annoyed. “Because you know I will anyway.”

            “Riza-”

            “I’ve already bought tickets, Roy.”

            “Someone clearly isn’t above blowing me up to get into my dorm room! I can’t believe you’d even _want_ to come stay with me right now! It isn’t safe!”

            “Don’t talk at me about safety when you refuse to employ basic measures like door locks!”

            “Well, that’s-”

            “A matter of principle, right? Is this a game to you?”

            “I don’t see any of this as a game, which is exactly why you shouldn’t be here. I’ll be home over the summer, and I won’t have much time over the spring holiday anyway. You know I have the additional study groups.”

            “I’m aware, but they didn’t seem to concern you when we made these plans months ago. What’s changed? Do you not want to see me?”

            Roy flopped backwards into his bed. “ _Of course_ I want to see you, but _everything_ changed when my room blew up and your dad’s research was stolen!”

            “I can stay in a hotel.”

            He sighed and imagined the stubborn set of her jaw. Fighting her would only serve as a wedge between them, and Roy couldn’t handle more discord. “A hotel with a security guard,” he relented softly.

            “Once you’re officially dismissed for the holiday, you can stay with me, right?”

            “Absolutely. My study group only meets from eleven to three in the afternoon, so you won’t be alone for long.”

            “It’s not _me_ being alone that I’m worried about. I had no idea the things my dad studied were so valuable.” She was silent for a moment. “I mean, I guess I should’ve known. I knew he was in the military and had an inkling of what he was capable of.”

            “I didn’t want to say anything, but I’ve heard some things since I’ve been here.”

            “What kind of things?”

            “Nothing bad.” Roy rolled the piping of his pillow between his fingers. “At least, nothing bad about Doctor Hawkeye. Some of the cadets in his class at the time, though... there’s rumors. He had enemies.”

            “My dad was a secretive man. I still haven’t looked through all the papers in his study here. I almost feel like I want to just memorialize him in my head and ignore anything else.”

            “There’s nothing wrong with wanting that, Riza. Most of the things I’ve come across have been accounts of stuff he refused to do, nothing damning. He left on his own accord.”

            “I’m going to book my room tomorrow, okay? Five days really isn’t enough time, but it’ll have to do.” Roy smiled despite himself. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

            “You aren’t having puppies are you?”

            Riza laughed, and even after so many years and miles, he still loved the sound. “No, no puppies. Hayate is the last of his line.”

            “Aw, you snipped him? Poor guy. He has my sympathies.”

            “It’s the responsible thing to do for domestic pet owners. Kain is going to look after him for me when I’m gone.”

            “He won’t miss you as much as I miss you.”

            “I guess I’m just a popular girl.” Riza yawned, and he could hear the sleep in her voice. “I’ll see you in a week, okay? Don’t get yourself blown up before then. I’ll never forgive you.”

            “If it helps, I’ll get a new door knob with a lock tomorrow. How’s that?”

            “Perfect. I knew you’d see sense eventually.”

            “This is a compromise, not a win. So no gloating.”

            “Gloating is beneath me, Roy Mustang. I am on the side of right.”

            “One week,” he whispered.

            “One week,” she replied. Roy followed through on the lockable door knob, but he had a feeling it would prove useless. The prize had already been taken.

            Central City did not offer a spring equinox festival, and Riza was eager to attend the annual tradition in the smaller locale of East City. A network of main streets in the downtown area were roped off and limited to foot traffic so citizens could mingle and enjoy the offerings of local merchants. Roy hadn’t actually attended the festival in the past, but he was happy to hold Riza’s hand through the streets and enjoy the warmer spring air.

            He hadn’t ever considered the traditions or symbolic meaning of the equinox festival. It wasn’t until Riza pulled him to a booth with baskets of brightly colored eggs painted with symbols that his curiosity was somewhat piqued. Long-haired goddesses surrounded by brown rabbits graced the banners that hung near the counter. Roy wasn’t a religious person, and the meaning was lost on him. A middle-aged woman, who reminded him of a much younger and kinder version of Mathilda Grumman, placed a red and blue egg adorned with a rabbit resembling the ones on display in Riza’s hand and promised them a fruitful future. When he later asked what rabbits and goddesses had to do with a _fruitful future_ , Riza only grinned and told him to look it up sometime.

            “I can see why a festival like that wouldn’t work in Central. Everyone is far too pretentious,” Riza said with a smile as they walked back to her hotel.

            “East City definitely has a different feel to it. Are you really not going to explain the rabbit and egg to me?” He tugged her closer to his side when she burst into laughter.

            “I think it’ll be much more entertaining to figure it out on your own.”

            “Entertaining for _you_.”

            “Yes, exactly.” Riza pulled the electronic key from her pocket, and he followed her into the hotel room.

            Roy fell into the bed. “I’m starving.”

            “You’re always hungry.” Riza shrugged off her jacket and kicked her shoes aside. “Order food if you want, but come sit with me on the balcony. We need to talk.”

            “That sounds ominous.”

            “It’s not, I promise.”

            After a quick phone call to a delivery restaurant, Roy leaned back in a metal patio chair. “Do I get to hear one of the big thoughts you keep in your pocket now?”

            Riza smiled. “I hope you haven’t built them up in your head.”

            “You aren’t considering getting my name tattooed on your back or anything are you? Because I’m opposed to that.”

            She threw him a withering glance. “Be serious, please.”

            “You’d be surprised what some people put on their bodies. Kimblee tattooed a transmutation circle on his palm.”

            “Somehow that _doesn’t_ surprise me.” Riza reached over and touched the short growth of Roy’s hair. “I hate that they’ve cut your hair off.”

            “It’ll grow back.” Roy took her hand in his. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

            An unexpected blush of pink bloomed on her cheeks. “It was just a stray thought, really.”

            “I want to hear all your stray thoughts. I miss them.”

            “Well, I was thinking that maybe you’d consider a transplant?”

            Roy raised an eyebrow. “Like with blood? Do you need a kidney or something?”

            Riza groaned. “No, I’m sorry. I’m not saying any of this right. Let me start over.” She opened her mouth to speak, but a knock at the door interrupted. Roy leaned over and kissed her lightly.

            “Hold that thought.”

            She followed him into the room and waited as he paid the delivery person. Roy peeked in the pizza box and smiled. As he lifted the lid, Riza pushed it closed again.

            “Move in with me.”

            “What?”

            “This summer. Move into my house, and it can be _our_ house.” Roy studied her face and leaned into the table. Riza sighed frustratedly and hooked her fingers into his belt loops. “I know it won’t mean a whole lot while you’re here, and I know you’ll _be_ here for another two years at least, but it would be nice to know when you say you’re _coming home_ , you mean you’re coming to _me_.”

            “Riza-”

            “And I don’t want to upset your aunt or make her feel like I’m taking something away from her. I just-”

            “Riza.”

            She stopped talking and looked up at him. “I want to. Of course I want to.”

            His heart skipped two beats at the sight of her smile. “I guess that was a little more than a stray thought, huh?”

            “Just a little. And don’t worry about Aunt Chris. I wasn’t going to live there forever.”

            She hid her face in his chest and sighed. “I’m happy.”

            “Good. Can we eat now? The smell of food is killing me.”

            His aunt only smiled over her teacup as he broke the news to her that summer. When he asked what she’d like done with the old bedroom suite that had seen him through childhood, she shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll think of _something_ to do with it in a few years. I’ll keep the room free for visitors. Don’t make me wait _too_ long, Roy.”


	17. Chapter 17

            Frank Archer stood in the empty apartment wearing nothing but moonlight. He could distinguish the green and gold flags through the window glass even in the dark of night and hated the aura of malice they radiated. Frank knew he was the only one who could see the maleficence they represented, but soon everyone would know. Everyone would see what he saw. He’d make them.

            The Eastern University of Military Application was an easy target. Despite its entrails teeming with the alchemy that had been denied him, the walls weren’t well guarded. Frank would not wait on the government to blow the lid off the silenced song of alchemy, even if rumor had it the high court wouldn’t have a leg to stand on in less than a year’s time. The shuffling of papers and squeaking of polished shoes on polished floors were all useless. So useless. These men in suits, like that amateur Shou Tucker, did not understand his suffering, the hoops he’d jumped through. Even once he’d played their game, they’d still sent him away. For years, he’d wasted away in Xing, biding his time.

            Voices echoed in his head. _Cadet Archer is too unstable. Displays sociopathic tendencies with proclivities toward violence. Messianic complex. Thesis in eugenics. Cadet Frank Archer is denied admittance to the State Alchemist program with extreme prejudice. Unfit for service. Dishonorable discharge._ The names of his former superiors ticked off one by one. They may have put him out of sight and out of mind, but he’d never forgotten them. Very soon now, they’d see their errors. Like a phoenix, Frank Archer would rise from the pyre they’d burned him on, and he’d turn those flames upon them with a vengeance.

            Their efforts to keep alchemy from him had been for naught. Anything could be bought for the right price, and the alchemy black market was bustling. Frank had managed to acquire just enough skill to accomplish his goal. His sources from inside the rotting military corpse had let it slip that the apprentice of his old classmate and venomous detractor, Berthold Hawkeye, had been accepted as a cadet three years ago. His blood percolated excitedly at the news. What better way to make a statement than to bring an end to the man’s self-righteous legacy?

            He could still remember the outrageously flagellating arguments Hawkeye had made when Frank tried to push him to share his notes. _Fire is dangerous. It is consuming. You don’t have the temperament for this knowledge. I wish I hadn’t revealed as much to you as I have already. The military doesn’t need more weapons of destruction. I’m resigning my commission._ Hawkeye had held in his undeserving hands the ultimate power, but he’d walked away from the turret and turned to a life of academia. What a waste. Frank was glad he was dead.

            Despite all his proselytizing, Archer knew Hawkeye’s ego wouldn’t allow him to destroy his discoveries. He’d heard of the explosion at the Central University of Sciences. It had to be alchemy related; the subsequent mutual relinquishment of his position proved that. The idea of Hawkeye sinking so low as to accept employment at a grade school academy was laughable to Frank. How the mighty had fallen. _But now?_ Now it was all too clear. Hawkeye had found an apprentice, likely a similarly-minded boy who wallowed in honor and a disgusting sense of civic responsibility.

            This Roy Mustang hadn’t even taken any pains to protect Hawkeye’s old notes. An astounding amount of confidence had been put in university security on the young cadet’s part. Such misplaced trust. His plans to make a public statement against the military and its elitist institution hadn’t changed. Destroying the legacy of Berthold Hawkeye was only a bonus. The ring was in sight, and Archer’s hand was aimed to catch it.

* * *

 

            Of all the things Roy could’ve been nervous about, going home over his last summer holiday as a student topped the heap. Somehow, it felt like a turning point. The previous summer he’d moved most of his belongings into Riza’s house, and the two months he spent there had the sense of a vacation. It was odd to be in his hometown and not living under his aunt’s roof. Everything had been a new experience, probably less-so for Riza, but it took Roy some time to adjust to his new surroundings. Especially the bedroom situation. Every night he’d spent at the Hawkeye house previously had either been in a guest room or Riza’s childhood bedroom. Seeing her father’s old room, which he’d only been in a handful of times to begin with, outfitted in new furniture and knowing it was a space he shared with Riza was overwhelming. He didn’t regret moving in with her, but he didn’t think he’d fully acclimate until he was done traveling back and forth.

            She met him on the platform with a grin and a hug. “Welcome home, handsome.”

            Roy leaned into her and sighed. “Tell me again why I thought going to the military university was a good idea.”

            Riza ran her fingers through his short hair. “Because you’re impatient and stubborn?”

            “I was hoping for something more romantic like _impetuous_.”

            “You think heedless is romantic?”

            “I suppose when you put it in _those_ words, no.” Roy pressed his lips to hers and felt the weight of displacement slough off his shoulders. “Let’s go home. I hate train stations.”

            Traffic in the city seemed busier than usual, and Roy fidgeted.

            “What’s the matter?” Riza asked.

            “I’m just tired. Sometimes I think if I could walk away from this whole military business right now, I would. Last week, one of my professors cornered me and interrogated me about a commission offer I haven’t even received yet.”

            “Hm,” Riza murmured.

            “Everything is changing. I still have a year left until I can take the certification exam, and usually a commission isn’t offered until after graduation, but there’s been a lot of pressure lately because everyone knows Senator Tucker is making an aggressive push.”

            “The military afraid of losing you.”

            “Not _me_ exactly, just the things I can do. Ever since your dad’s work was stolen, there’s a fear that the techniques I use will be lost to what they call _backyard alchemy_. It’s a stupid slur.” Roy sighed and closed his eyes in irritation. “I expect to be badgered until the very end.”

            “Will you drop out if the legislation passes before you graduate?”

            “I want to, but I go back and forth. I still have the chemistry degree to complete, and if somehow nothing changes in government, I think it’ll come in handy when I decline the commission.” Roy smirked. “I could follow in the footsteps of your dad and teach loud-mouthed high school students why we add acids to bases and not the other way around.”

            Riza smiled but didn’t look over at him.

            “What do you think? Your opinion is important to me.”

            “I think you could’ve gotten a chemistry degree here in Central City. Don’t give up on alchemy yet. I know it’s what you really aspire to do.”

            “I don’t want to be a soldier, Riza. I never did.”

            “Honestly, Roy, I think this subject isn’t worth the stress of overthinking it. Alchemy is going to be legalized, and soon. If teaching interests you, I’m sure parents would line up to have an alchemist of your caliber and background tutor their child.”

            “Think so?”

            “I _know_ so. Do you realize how big of a deal this is? The country is evolving, and people know who you are. That essay you published this past winter on flammable gasses and controlled ignition devices was amazingly popular in the university network here. They compare you to my dad, and I think it would be a good idea to keep a tight grip on any of your physical documentation until you have a private office.”

            “Really?”

            Riza’s face twisted in disbelief. “ _Yes, you oaf!_ You’ve taken something my father had a decent grasp on and developed it into a precise science. The military isn’t ignorant to this either.” She shook her head. “Even if you _are_.”

            “I live in a bit of a bubble, Riza. I don’t actually get out much. Once that paper was out of my hands, I just kind of… let it go.” He shrugged.

            “You asked for my opinion, and here it is: Follow through with graduation, and get your certification and degree. Try not to let the politics get to you. Your professors are pretty damn biased, but _I’m_ telling you legalization is happening, and there's no point in stressing yourself out over a decision I think you've already made in your heart. In a couple of years, you’ll be able to draw arrays in the driveway, and no one will care.” She pulled up to the house and stopped the car. “And most importantly? _Relax_. It’s your last vacation before real life starts.”

            Roy glanced over at her. “Real life, for me, started when I moved in with you last summer.”

            “Are you truly okay, Roy? You seem a little distant.”

            “I promise that I’m fine. I just need to unwind myself.” He sighed and took her hand. “It’s hard to have a split existence. At school, I have to be a different person, and I’m expected to behave in a certain way. When I come home, it’s not easy to leave that behind and just be _me_. Things are the worst at the end of the summer, and I have to go back to being a soldier, a scientist, a student… I really want a happy medium.”

            “Do you wish you’d kept your own space at your aunt’s house?”

            “No, Riza, I don’t. That would just be another dichotomy. My personality doesn’t need any more facets.”

            She nodded. “Don’t ever feel like you can’t tell me what’s going on. With age comes perspective, and I don’t want us to be like my parents. They kept secrets, and because of that they didn’t last very long. I worry about you.”

            “One way or another, Riza, I’ll be home for good soon. I’d rather be a high school chemistry teacher and be here with you, than a soldier with all the alchemy resources in the world.”

            She reached over and ran her fingers over the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

            “I love you.”

Riza finally smiled. “Are you hungry? Solaris is inside, and I’m sure she’d make you a plate. Dinner isn’t for a few hours.”

            “That would be great. Train food is really terrible, and I skipped breakfast.”

            Riza exhaled heavily and shook her head. “Oh, Roy.” They stepped from the car, and he left his bag in the trunk. There would be plenty of time to sort through it later; the last thing he wanted to do was integrate his military gear into home life when he was still trying to merge _himself_ into the environment. Roy felt her hand slide into his, and he kissed the top of her head. At the very least, she always smelled the same. “I know the train exhausts you. A nap before company shows up tonight may be in order.”

            Hayate pawed at Roy’s pant legs when he walked through the front door, and he knelt to greet the dog properly. “Hey, boy. Holding down the fort, I see.” A wet nose sniffed curiously at his hands and shirt cuff. “Want to take a nap with me, or are you courting Solaris in the kitchen?”

            “That’ll be a tough choice for him, Roy,” Riza laughed.

            “If he has any loyalty to me at all, he’ll follow me upstairs.”

            “You may want to stack the deck and keep a bite of your sandwich handy,” a voice from the hallway said. Roy stood and embraced Solaris. Her hair had a streak of grey near the temple, but her face was as agelessly beautiful as ever.

            “Hey, Solaris. How are you?”

            “I’m alright. It’s a good thing you’ve stopped getting taller,” she quipped. “I’m always afraid I won’t be able to handle that bottomless pit of yours.”

            Roy’s cheeks warmed. “The kitchens at school can’t compete with you. I’ve always got a spot open for whatever you make.”

            Solaris smirked. “You’re a shameless flatterer, Roy Mustang. I’ll warm something up for you.”

            Evening walks with Riza and Hayate were fast becoming the favorite part of Roy’s home life. Now that he didn’t have anywhere to be afterwards, they’d linger in the park and watch the sunset. Hayate appreciated the children that had seemingly boundless energy to chase him and be chased in return. He took a special liking to a little blonde boy that Roy didn’t think could be older than seven or eight.

            “Can I give him a treat, Riza? Can I? My ma says these biscuits are okay for dogs.” The boy’s wide blue eyes gazed up at her hopefully.

            “I’m sure Hayate would love a biscuit, Joseph.” She leaned down to his eye level. “Make him work for it a little bit. He needs to learn how to sit and stay.”

            “Thanks, Riza!” He scampered off with the black dog on his heels. “Come on, boy!”

            Riza laughed and took Roy’s hand. “Hayate likes kids.”

            “That one looks familiar. Where have I seen him before?”

            “Oh, that’s Jean’s little brother. He wasn’t quite in kindergarten yet when you left the academy.”

            “Wow. The Havocs are a busy couple, I guess.”

            She squeezed his hand. “They started young. Jean’s mother was only twenty when he was born. I think Joseph was a surprise and probably the last. I can’t imagine having so many kids, to be honest.”

            “How many do they have?” Roy asked before he could stop himself. Conversations like this one made him sweat. He wasn’t ready to talk about children.

            “Five,” she answered lightly, “but you know Mrs. Havoc doesn’t work. She stays home, and their house is ridiculously perfect. Anytime Jean gave me a pretty box of something, I always knew exactly who’d done the wrapping and ribbons.”

            Roy didn’t know how to respond and simply sat next to Riza on the park bench.

            She rested her head on his shoulder. “Speaking of work, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about my career path.”

            Finally, a change of subject. “Yeah? It doesn’t require more moving around does it?”

            “No, you’re safe on that front. I don’t think I want to pursue a position in government. Watching the frustrating way the wheels turn these last couple of years has really killed my interest in the whole process. Activism is one thing, but legislation is another.”

            “What? A lifetime of paper shuffling and shouting from podiums doesn’t appeal to you? I’m shocked at you, Riza.”

            She chuckled and kissed his shoulder. “I think I’d romanticized it a little bit.”

            “Do you regret the decision to study political science?”

            “Not at all, but I think my focus changed a little. I’ve been thinking more along the lines of teaching. It’s been on my mind for a while, but now I’m sure.”

            “I think you’d make a great teacher, Riza. You have a quiet patience that impresses me, and everyone likes you.”

            “Solaris was right,” Riza chided him, “You _are_ a shameless flatterer.”

            “I mean it!”

            She went on. “I was approached by a recruiter from the academy after my final exam scores were posted. He offered me a student teaching position for the fall semester. I can double up on courses in the spring and get my educator certification pretty easily.”

            “Wow, that sounds like a lot of work.”

            Riza sighed. “It will be, but I think it’s what I want.” She pulled away from him and sat straight. “Do you think I could do it?”

            Roy turned to her and took her hands in his. “I absolutely think you can do it, and I think it’ll make you happier than a job in the government house.”

            “I can’t help but think it’ll be a little odd to be back in our old school as a teacher. The recruiter implied they’d be interested in offering me a position if my internship goes well. The letter was signed by Bradley himself.”

            His eyebrows flew up. “Wow, that old grouch is still at the helm? He’s got to be a million years old by now!”

            She laughed and settled back into his side. “He’s not _that_ old, Roy. I’d put him at maybe sixty-five. He’ll probably stay on until he dies at his desk.”

            “I only see one problem with this situation.”

            “What’s that?”

            “I’m sure Bradley will jump at the chance to have Doctor Hawkeye’s daughter to his credit, but I think it all depends on how your application reads.”

            “Meaning?”

            “Well, if it says _Riza Hawkeye_ , I’m sure you’ll be hired on the spot. However, if it says something like, I don’t know, _Riza Mustang_ , it might give him pause.”

            “Riza Mustang, huh? That’s an interesting name.”

            “I kind of like it.” He glanced down at her and winked.

            “Is that who you want? Riza Mustang?”

            “I just want Riza. It doesn’t matter so much if her last name is Hawkeye or Mustang. Just think about it.”

            “Well, I think this Riza Hawkeye would first require her boyfriend to come home from playing soldier for more than a few months out of the year before considering changing her last name.”

            Roy laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “He’s working on it.”


	18. Chapter 18

            Gordon Grumman flipped through the pages of his newspaper and did his best to ignore the voices of the television in the next room. A bit stuck in his ways, he preferred to have current events delivered to him via black and white print rather than talking heads. Over the past several weeks, the news cycle had been aflutter with the death of the sitting Fuhrer and his replacement. Opposing political parties gnashed their teeth and shouted one another down, but the people had spoken. The new Fuhrer was considerably younger than his predecessor, and quite a few shades more liberal. In the last four days since the pomp and circumstance of an Amerstian state funeral, he’d turned several heads.

            His first order of business had been to repair the diplomatic disarray with Ishval. The clerics across the eastern border were willing to sign trade agreements and allow Amestris the use of their railway infrastructure in exchange for assurances that State Alchemists would not practice in their holy lands. Waters were further calmed when the ban on privatized alchemy was lifted. In an inspiring speech Gordon consented to watch on television, the freshly sworn-in Fuhrer proclaimed bright horizons and new advances for all of Amestris. Even if the man seemed a little _too_ shiny for Grumman’s liking, he felt confident the changes were for the best.

            Of course, he was a _smidge_ biased. He’d have supported private alchemy regardless of the dangers military personnel railed about simply because it would mean his granddaughter could be with the young man she loved. Gordon hadn’t wanted Roy Mustang to ever be exposed to the horrors of war he’d seen in his own youth. Some shadows couldn’t be chased away, even with every light in the house switched on. Now, thanks to the new leadership, none of Amestris’s young soldiers would be sent off to smear a landscape with the blood of enemies and brothers alike.

            His wife, Mathilda, had been quite vocal in her distaste for the Fuhrer. Gordon thought this had more to do with Riza and less with any actual politics. Riza’s steadfast refusal to allow her grandmother’s opinions to hold sway still raised hackles. The return of _That Boy_ was something she blamed on the nation’s new leader and could not forgive. Nevermind that their granddaughter’s independence had nothing to do with the presence of Roy Mustang and everything to do with her breeding stock; Mathilda needed someone to indict.

            Only once had his wife ever dared to utter a word of grievance against Roy in front of Riza, and Gordon wouldn’t forget the terrifyingly placid outrage on her face. The evening had gone smoothly up until the moment when Riza mentioned her recent move into the master bedroom at the Hawkeye house. Mathilda responded that though Riza was an adult, she had no need for the large suite. _Why not save such a lavish space for when you’ve finally brought a proper husband home?_ He’d noticed Riza’s eye twitch at the term _proper husband_ , but it wasn’t until the older woman’s unchecked reaction at the knowledge that Mustang would be moving in that she smiled icily. It seemed only Gordon saw the curve of her lips for what it was. Danger.

            For reasons he still couldn’t quite grasp, Riza had allowed her grandmother to positively flay _That Boy_ with her words before interjecting. _He isn’t_ That Boy _, Grandmother; he is an accomplished student and scientist. Roy has been by my side since just after my mother died, which is not something I could say for you, who are an actual blood relative._ Mathilda had gasped like an affronted royal in a novel. _He_ will _be moving into my house, and it will be_ our _home. If you care to be welcome here at all in the future, you’ll keep your opinions about him to yourself. I will thank you, though, for the implication that it is for me to bring a husband home and not the other way around. That’s if I choose to take a husband at all._ It was the last comment snubbing marriage that finally shut his wife’s mouth for the remainder of the evening. Riza managed to keep her cool until they’d left, but he could tell her feathers had been ruffled.

            For himself, Gordon didn’t care if his granddaughter ever married Roy Mustang so long as he got to bounce at least one sweet-smelling great-grandbaby on his lap before he died.

* * *

 

            Roy’s certification exam was exactly as arduous as he expected. More than once, he considered not reserving a slot at all, but Riza insisted that even if he declined his commission, the unused certification would look very prestigious on a resume. He wouldn’t be allowed to keep the sparkling pocket watch for too long, as he wouldn’t be staying in military service beyond his graduation, so he enjoyed looking at it while it was still in his possession. Riza teased him about the way it hung from his dress uniform, saying he looked a little like Headmaster Bradley. After that comment, he felt less bad about returning it later.

            Both his aunt and Riza attended his official certification, where they dubbed him _Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist_. He welcomed the press of Chris’s painted lips to his cheek and suspected it would be the last time she’d insist on doing it. Riza clung to his side and whispered in his ear that her father would’ve been proud. Kimblee’s unnerving grins deflated him somewhat, but Roy didn’t dwell on it. He was used to the man’s oddness.

            The graduation ceremony was considerably longer than his certification, and he noted that his dress uniform had gotten more wear in the last few days than in the previous four years. Roy wasn’t complaining, though the wool was stiff and uncomfortably hot, even in the milder heat of the morning. Summer in East City was much harsher than in his hometown of Central.

            “Well, kid, you’ve made us all proud.” Chris squeezed his arm and smiled. “I know your parents would’ve loved to see you today.” Roy’s eyebrows inched heavenward. She rarely brought them up. “Wrap up your business here, and come home soon.”

            Riza waited until Chris had boarded the train to embrace him. “She’s right, you know.”

            “About what?” Roy sighed into her hair. Even though he’d see them again before the end of the week, saying so many goodbyes made his heart heavy.

            “Your parents and how proud we are of you. I know it’s been hard going back and forth for so long, but it’s over now. Just a few more days, and we’ll be in charge of our lives again.”

            “I can’t just stow away home with you now?”

            “Sadly, no. I think your commanding officer would notice that.”

            “I don’t ever want another commanding officer,” Roy pouted.

            “Now’s probably your last chance to change your mind.”

            He pulled her to a bench a few steps back from the platform. “Do you think I’m making a mistake? I know alchemy is legal for civilians now, but everything is so new, and there’s no guarantee I can make a living off of it.”

            “Roy, you need to make this decision for yourself. I don’t ever want to be responsible for your misery. The threat of war is all but gone, and if you want to stay and feel out the lifestyle of a State Alchemist, you absolutely should.”

            “Would you think me a waste if I said I wanted something less grandiose than all that? I thought I wanted to learn all there was to learn, and EUMA was the only place I could do it,” he sighed and touched her hand, “Now the new Fuhrer says I can be an alchemist anywhere, and it feels strange. Everything they’ve taught me here has been with a military-minded agenda. What if I can’t figure it out on my own?”

            Riza smiled. “Oh, Roy. How can you be so confident about something like training Hayate to shred unwanted suitors and still manage to look at me this way about a subject you’re a certified expert in?” She slid closer to him and leaned into his shoulder. “I’m not going to tell you it’s a great idea to teach kids how to be little fire-starters, but I think you’re smart enough to beat your own path. And if all else fails, I suppose I could beg Bradley to give you a job. I still have those crotchless panties, you know. Maybe he’s into that.”

            Despite himself, Roy laughed. “I’d hate to put you in that position.”

            She stood and pulled him to his feet when the last warning whistle blew. “There’s a sex joke in there somewhere; I just know it.” Riza wrapped her arms around his middle and sighed. “I don’t think you’re making a mistake declining the commission. I think the mistake would be to doubt yourself. Come back to me, okay?” She kissed him then left him on the platform feeling just as alone as he’d felt when his train pulled away from Central City four years prior. Roy spent the remainder of his evening unable to sit still; his bags were as packed as they could be, given he still had a few days left before leaving, and his boxes of materials were well on their way back home. He needed to get out and breathe.

            His boots thumped on the pavement as he made his way through the expertly manicured grounds of the university. The courtyards and expanses of grass were largely deserted after sunset, and Roy preferred them that way. His favorite park held a solarium that contained a variety of exotic lilies and other blooms donated as a show of diplomatic peace from neighboring countries. He enjoyed the way the moonlight made the stargazer petals glow and often reflected that Riza’s skin had a similar pull for him. Perhaps when he returned home to her, he’d acquire some lilies for the garden behind the Hawkeye house.

            “Good evening, Cadet Mustang,” an unfamiliar voice spoke to him from the shadows behind a planter of large-leafed flora. “Enjoying the evening following your success?” A man he’d never seen before stepped from behind the plants. “It’s a shame your pretty girlfriend couldn’t stay any longer.”

            Roy stood and glared, but the stranger only laughed. “Why are you following me?”

            “Excellent question. It’s about time I introduced myself. Frank Archer, and it is a pleasure to meet you, cadet. I wish I could say I’m surprised you completed your specialty despite the loss of your research material, but how could I have expected any less of an apprentice of Hawkeye’s?”

            “ _You_ did that? _You_ blew up my room and stole my boxes? _Why?_ Do I know you?”

            Archer sat on a bench and crossed his legs. “We haven’t ever met, no, but I’ve heard plenty about you from an associate of mine. A charming young man that I think you _do_ know. You even went to grade school together. Lieutenant Kimblee, is it? He didn’t decline his commission, as you have, so I suppose he has an actual rank now. I also knew your teacher, Berthold Hawkeye. An insufferable man. Always so secretive and selfish.”

            Roy’s eyes widened, and he cocked his head to the side in confusion.

            “It took me longer than expected to master the basics of the materials in my possession, and I now wonder how much more you are capable of to earn a certification in the field. The notes I stole were quite sparse to one with knowledge such as mine. Care to partake in some equivalent exchange?”

            “I’m not telling you a goddamn thing. I suggest you get the fuck out of here before I have you arrested for what you stole from me and destroying government property.”

            A dramatic sigh escaped the man’s lips, and he grinned. His teeth shone in the dim light of the solarium, and Roy took several steps back. Archer seemed on the brink of madness. “A pity. I’d hoped you and I could be friends. Kimblee is quite intelligent and skilled in his art, but nothing compares to the simple beauty of raw flames.”

            Roy’s hands felt around the pockets of his dress uniform for his ignition gloves. Of course, he didn’t have them. In his mind, they sat very clearly in a locked case in his dorm room. He hadn’t thought he’d need them on a ceremonious day.

            Archer carefully removed his coat and tossed it aside. His arms were bared, and Roy saw a complicated cluster of arrays tattooed into his skin. At a glance, they appeared to be an odd combination of the symbols he used himself and some he’d caught a glimpse of in Kimblee’s theories.

            “I’ve waited a long time to return this favor. The military brought this on themselves, and severing Hawkeye’s legacy is a sweet, sweet cherry.“

            Roy didn’t have much time to react. He could only stumble backwards into a spare glass ceiling tile that had been removed for cleaning. The panel fell onto him as Frank Archer’s hands drew together, and the last thing Roy remembered was the blast of flame that stole his sight.

            His hospital room was dark, the only sound being the steady beep of a heart rate monitor. When he tried to sit up, a gentle hand pressed him back down onto the bed.

            “Hold on there, kid; don’t try to move too much.” The voice of his aunt calmed his racing pulse. “I’ve just alerted the nurses’ station, okay? No need to get all worked up.”

            “Aunt Chris,” Roy croaked out, “why is it so dark in here?”

            He heard her sigh. “It’s not dark, kid. Do you remember what happened?”

            Roy flexed his fingers, and it seemed that his skin stung. “I can recall graduation and you and Riza. Everything after the train is kind of a blur.”

            Her hand rested on his shoulder again. “That’s okay. It’ll come to you.”

            Roy heard a door click closed and tried to turn and face the noise. “Welcome back, Cadet Mustang. I’m glad to see you’ve come around at last,” an unfamiliar voice said. The sound of wheels on linoleum and the hiss of a depressed cushion drew his attention to the left. There was a shuffling of papers as the voice spoke again. “I’m Doctor Marcoh, and you’ll be under my care while you’re here.”

            “I’m not a cadet anymore.” Roy could think of nothing else to say.

            The doctor’s hands removed the monitors pulled the oxygen tube from his face. “True enough. I understand you’ve declined the commission. Tell me, Roy, what is the last thing you remember?”

            Roy frowned, but his face felt tight, and he now believed it to be bandaged. This explained the darkness. “I remember the graduation ceremony and seeing my aunt and girlfriend off at the train station. After that it’s-” He paused, and his jaw tightened as memories slowly trickled in. “The solarium. I was in the solarium, and there was a man there. He said a lot of crazy stuff before-”

            “I’m glad you didn’t need to be prompted. It’s always better when the patients remember on their own. Save your account for the official statement. I expect, now that you’re awake and talking, the military police will want to interview you. My job is to patch you up.”

            He finally reached up to touch the gauze over his eyes. The tips of his fingers felt raw. “What happened? Everything feels strange, and I can’t see.”

            Doctor Marcoh sighed, and Roy flinched a little when he felt a hand fumble with the bandages. “Your eyes were damaged in the blast. There was some light scarring and enough inflammation to prevent a proper inspection. You are damn lucky that ceiling panel they found on top of you was a type of plexiglass. It spared your vital organs from damage and the majority of your skin from burns; your face and hands took most of the heat.” Roy sat in a daze as the doctor unwound the gauze slowly. “The overhead sprinklers doused the flames before the MP’s actually arrived. It seemed the explosion had more bark than bite in the end. I understand the perpetrator didn’t have the skill he assumed.”

            Roy could feel the air on his face and blinked. He could see nothing. “I can’t see a goddamn thing.”

            “I wish I could give you some better news on that front. It does appear the surrounding areas are healing nicely, though, so I expect the ophthalmologist will be in to see you soon. She’ll want to have a close look.”

            “Am I going to be blind forever?”

            “That’s a question you’ll want to save for her.” Roy heard the rolling chair scrape the floor again, and the doctor’s voice came from above him now. “Physically, your prognosis is good. The burns will continue to heal, and it’s very likely the scarring will be minimal. New skin is already stitching up and looks good. I’d say your period of unconsciousness was a blessing because now you’ll want to itch it less.”

            Roy was startled. “How long have I been out?”

            There was a pause, and in the silence, his anxiety peaked. Chris spoke up, “Roy the graduation was almost two weeks ago.”

            _“What?”_

            Doctor Marcoh cut in. “We had to sedate you at first. Burns create a special kind of pain, and the damage to your eyes was still unknown. The inflammation needed to be brought down swiftly. You were taken off the sedatives two days ago.”

            He fidgeted with the blanket draped over him, but the fabric only irritated his fingertips. Despite all the information thrown at him in the last few minutes, his mind focused solely on Riza.

            “Well, I’ve got some rounds to make, Roy. I’ll send the ophthalmologist your chart, and she’ll probably be by later today. I know she’s been anxious to get under those bandages. I’ll also make sure they bring you a lunch today; take it easy, though, and don’t shock your stomach.” The door clicked shut, and Roy was left alone with his aunt.

            “How is she? Does she know what happened?”

            “Well,” Chris began, “she’s not here, in case you were wondering. And yes, she knows about the explosion. This is a military hospital, and I’m the only legal family you’ve got. It took a hell of a lot of convincing to keep her from living in a hotel until you woke.”

            “How am I going to tell Riza that I’m blind?”

            “Roy-”

            “I have nothing to offer her now. Everything I’ve worked for isn’t even an option.”

            Chris sighed loudly, and he heard her chair creak. “You always were a dramatic boy, but don’t start being an idiot. The surgeon hasn’t even looked to see what’s going on inside since they bandaged your face. Don’t conjure up a rain storm just so you can pout beneath the clouds.”

            “I guess.”

            “You guess? Honestly, Roy, you’re lucky to be alive. Even if you _are_ blinded permanently, wouldn’t you rather have that than death?” Roy sighed and blinked furiously. As if the motion would magically restore his vision. It didn’t.


	19. Chapter 19

            Rose Thomas pulled on a pair of non-latex gloves and carefully squeezed a dollop of cream onto the tip of her finger. The burns on her patient’s forehead hadn’t blistered much and were already starting to peel and heal over, but his hands were more severe. Doctor Marcoh didn’t think fine motor function would be restricted or impede his ability to practice alchemy, but the scarring would be acute there. It would be several more weeks before Roy Mustang would have full use of his hands. However, Rose didn’t think it was these burns that kept his spirits low.

            The same day Mister Mustang had woken from his sedation, an ophthalmologist had examined his eyes and determined he suffered from a retinal burn. There would be no surgery, and nothing could be done but wait to see if the tissue repaired itself. Since the diagnosis and uncertain prognosis, the young man had sunk into a depression. He’d wanted to return home to Central City, but the investigation of the blast was ongoing, and he wouldn’t be released until the military police wrapped up the case. Rose wasn’t an expert in criminal investigative matters, but she hated to see him so sad.

            He tolerated her ministrations, but with a frown. She could tell he’d rather apply the soothing cream to his own skin but lacked the sight to do so properly. According to the hospital switchboard operator, Mister Mustang received more telephone calls than any other patient, and the young woman on the other end of the line could be rather terse at times. Her identity and relationship to the former Flame Alchemist was the subject of typical workplace gossip. Rose had no interest in the chattering. Despite his attractiveness, men weren’t her cup of tea, and her heart bled for the young alchemist who only ever brightened when his bedside phone rang. Even the weekly visits from his aunt and adoptive mother couldn’t bring him out of his gloom.

            Outside the walls of the hospital, the world chugged on. A handful of State Alchemists had resigned their commissions, and a recruitment campaign had started to replace them. Outdated benefits such as a higher rank upon certification were reinstated, and in times of peace, alchemists with certain specialties were no longer required to live near a specific military post. News surrounding the explosion that had taken Mister Mustang’s sight was also a popular topic. Specific reports as to the cause behind it were sketchy, but the tabloids proclaimed it had been an anti-military mad man who’d been expelled from the university years before. So far, only one arrest had been made. Lieutenant Zolf Kimblee was taken into custody when Mustang had implicated him as Archer's accomplice, but so far only Archer was being charged with the actual explosion and assault. Kimblee's statements hadn't been released to the public, though, and since Archer perished in his own flames, the media scrambled for any bits of information the military let slip.

            It hadn’t occurred to her that her position as Mister Mustang’s day nurse would be of interest to anyone until a journalist approached her as she left the hospital one afternoon. The man had been polite at first and didn’t seem at all put off by her refusal to speak on the matter of his recovery. However, on the third day he sat in obnoxious waiting, Rose responded with a truculence that shocked him into rude manipulations. The man asked what sort of duties her job entailed, and whether or not she saw to the handsome young alchemist’s more intimate needs. After the unpleasant encounter, Rose reported the man to security, and she was afforded a military escort to her vehicle.

            For Mister Mustang’s sake, as well as her own, she hoped the investigation would be over soon.

* * *

 

            He hadn’t wanted Riza to come to East City for Kimblee’s trial and hearing regarding the explosion, but she wouldn’t be kept away. He’d done his best to explain to her that Doctor Hawkeye would be referenced in the court proceedings and how he was related to Archer to begin with. Her tone over the phone had been impartial, but Roy knew she was curious about her father’s military career.

            Riza wasn’t allowed in the patient ward, but Chris assured him she waited in the lobby on the morning he was meant to appear in court. His aunt helped him into his dress uniform for the last time and fussed with his collar and decorations.

            “Well, kid, that’s the best I can do. Riza was always better at this kind of thing.” Chris took his elbow and led him down the hallway. “I’m sure she’ll adjust anything that needs fixing.”

            “I don’t care about any of it, Aunt Chris. I wish I didn’t have to wear the uniform at all,” he grumbled as they stepped into an elevator.

            “Policy is policy. You aren’t officially free of it until this mess is squared away.”

            “I just hope Major Renault was right, and the whole circus won’t last more than two days.”

            “That’s an attorney’s arrogance for you, kid, but I can’t imagine anything will be drawn out. I saw on the news that they found some of Doctor Hawkeye’s notes in Kimblee’s possession, and from what I’ve heard about Archer, he was off the rails completely by the time he blew himself up. Seems pretty airtight.”

            “Has Riza been following the news? I think it’s shitty she has to watch her dad’s name drawn out in public like this.”

            Chris laughed. “Of course she’s seen the news. If anything, I think she has a newfound respect for her father. It’s become quite clear he left the military for good reason.” A low bell chimed, and Roy felt a rush of air against his face as the elevator doors slid open. Chris led him through what felt like a crowd. “Ah, there she is,” she mumbled.

            “Roy!” Riza’s voice made him smile, and he couldn’t deny that the familiar way she clutched his arm was the best thing that had happened to him since he’d come into contact with Frank Archer.

            “I’ll see about the car,” Chris said, and Roy felt her disappear from his side.

            Riza’s arms encircled his chest, and she hugged him tightly against her. “I fucking hate this military hospital,” he heard her say.

            Roy returned her embrace and was glad the bulk of the bandages on his hands had been removed. The skin was still sensitive and tight, but he’d take the feel of her hair in his fingers over the protective gauze any day of the week. “It won’t be long now. Riza, I’m-”

            “You better not be about to apologize for any of this. I haven’t seen you in damn near two months, and the last thing I want to talk about is misplaced guilt.”

            He couldn’t help his laugh. “Alright, alright. We’ll save my pity party for another day.” Roy slid his hands from her back, over her shoulders, and to her cheeks. His thumb brushed over her lips, and he felt the smile on them. “Thank you for coming.” He leaned in to kiss her and would’ve missed her mouth if her hand hadn’t reached up and gently guided his aim to the right.

            “I would never _ever_ not be here for you, Roy.” She pulled back from him and took his elbow. “Come on, your aunt is waving from outside. It’s time to go.”

            The portions of the hearing Roy was present for were exceedingly boring. He couldn’t see anything, and the sound of voices droning on and on made him wish he could simply give his testimony and walk out. In the end, his statement took less than ten minutes, and he was free to leave after the break for lunch. Riza stuck by his side for the remainder of the afternoon until it was time for him to return to his room at the hospital. No amount of cajoling would get her past the sergeant on staff duty. The woman sheepishly apologized, but rules were rules.

            Kimblee’s guilty verdict was returned the following afternoon, and Roy was pretty sure Riza’s cheeks were damp when she left East City to return home until his discharge. She claimed she had something important to attend to, and it couldn’t wait. His Aunt Chris had nothing to say on the subject and only insisted a lady had a right to a few secrets every now and then.

            “I don’t expect to visit you here again, kid,” she said from her perch on the corner of his bed. “The military will want to wrap everything up soon and send you off on your way.”

            “I hope so. This lockdown business is getting pretty old. I just want to go home.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

            “Riza will be here to take you back to Central City. I’ve got some business that needs handling.” He could hear the smirk in her voice. “And I’m sure you’d rather her company on the train ride over mine.”

            “Aunt Chris, don’t be ri-”

            “You can’t hide it, kid. I know you miss her, and my feelings aren’t hurt. I’ve had enough man-pain to last me through the next life, to be honest.” Roy felt her fingers ruffle his short hair. “I’m going to head out tonight. Give me a call to let me know when you’ll be on your way. Don’t leave a lady hanging, okay?”

            He smiled. “I promise I’ll call the minute they give me the order.”

            “Good deal.” Chris kissed his forehead lightly. “I’ll see you at home, Roy.” He heard the door click shut behind her and instantly felt the unwelcome solitude.

            Roy’s final orders didn’t come until two days later. A captain visited his room, and he signed a number of papers, with the assistance of his day-nurse, detailing his discharge. Doctor Marcoh kept him for an additional twenty-four hours just so the ophthalmologist could have a final peek into his eyes. Nothing had changed, of course, but the eventual return of Roy’s vision wasn't ruled out. A referral to an excellent doctor in Central City was given to him, along with a packet containing information on after-care he wouldn't be able to read. Without Riza’s presence for the dump of information, he didn’t think he’d have been quite so confident. He suspected he’d need her help to handle more than a few things in the immediate future.

            When they were finally seated on the train bound for home, she sighed and leaned into him. “I’m glad to finally have you back.”

            “It’ll be great to _be_ back. Even if it’s like… _this_.”

            Riza shifted next to him. “Did I mention that I graduated early?”

            “You didn’t! I’m sorry I missed it.” He was thoughtful for a moment. “You must have really put away some hours to manage that.”

            She squeezed his arm. “It was worth the struggle, Roy, and you didn’t miss a thing. My diploma was mailed to me.”

            “Why did you opt out of the graduation ceremony after working so hard?”

            “I had something else to do that day.” She shrugged. “Bradley offered me the teaching position as well. I start in the fall. Apparently, they’re rather desperate as old Mister Schneider retired unexpectedly. Lucky for me, I guess.”

            “Are you happy?”

            “I will be now that you’re coming home. I can barely say how much I’ve missed you, Roy.”

            He felt her lips press into the fabric of his shirt at his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer into his side.

            “I don’t think I could face any of this without you, Riza.”

            “You don’t ever have to.”

            In spite of all the challenges ahead, Roy smiled. “I'm dying to know what was more important to you than graduation.”

            “Well,” her fingers toyed with the buttons on his shirt, “I took a caregiver course.”

            “A what?”

            “A class for people who live with and care for the blind. I just wanted to be prepared for when you came home, and there was only one schedule available for the summer. So I made a judgement call.”

            “You skipped your graduation for me?”

            He felt her touch on his chin. “It was more important to me than walking across a stage.”

            “Riza-”

            “I love you, Roy,” she interrupted fiercely, “I don’t want you to feel insecure or out of place at home. I wanted to be ready. I’ve minimized the clutter on the floor and paced everything out experimentally. Of course, you’ll want to count your own steps, but I’ve done the test driving already so you won’t trip on anything unexpected.”

            He could feel her eyes on him but had no words to properly express his gratitude for her thoughtfulness. Instead of fumbling over poorly constructed sentences, he hid his face in her neck and swallowed back the lump in his throat.

            Roy could hear the excited thumping of Hayate’s tail against the hardwood floors of the main hallway.

            “Stay,” Riza commanded. She patted his arm. “I’ve been working with him on being underfoot. Tomorrow I’ll teach you how to give him the right commands. He’s not really a service dog, but at the very least he won’t trip you.” She paused. “I’m afraid he’s taken to sleeping in the bed with me. I hope that’s okay because I don’t know that I have the heart to lock him out of the bedroom.”

            Roy laughed. “It’s fine. I don’t ever want to sleep alone again.”

            With a soft voice, she warned him of the staircase and how many steps until the top landing. Riza placed his hand on her shoulder and helped him form a natural pace to count the steps to their bedroom. She guided him first to the bed, then the adjacent bathroom.

            “And the shower is directly ahead, the sink is to your right, and the toilet just beyond that.”

            Silently, he counted paces as he learned the layout of their private space.

            “Above the sink is a shelf, and your toothbrush will always be on the left with the toothpaste next to it.”

            “None of that minty stuff, right?”

            Riza chuckled. “None of the minty stuff, I promise. Do you want a shower before bed or no? It’s pretty late, and you have to be exhausted.”

            “I think I’d rather wait until morning. I kind of want to establish a routine right away, and mornings are better.”

            “I agree.” She gently cupped his elbow. “Do you want to find your own way back to the bed? Your side is the one exposed to the rest of the room, and I’ve taken the wall side.”

            Roy nodded. “I think I’ve got it.”

            “I’m right behind you.” With minimal awkwardness, he found his way to the side of the bed, counting even paces silently and trying to picture the room as he remembered it.

            “Here,” Riza took his hand, “let me help you to the closet, and you can feel where the dirty clothes go.”

            “I knew you had an agenda.”

            She laughed. “Now you’ll have no excuses. Can’t have you tripping over stray pants in the middle of the night.” Divested of his travel worn clothes, Roy sank into the mattress. Riza curled into his side and hitched a bare leg over his hips. “Are you okay?”

            “I’m better than okay, Riza. You are amazing, and I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

            “Are you kidding?” she scoffed. “You’ve put me back together after the deaths of both my parents, respectively, and for a long time, I asked myself what _I’d_ done to deserve _you!_ ” She touched his cheek and turned his head to face her. Roy could feel her lips brush over his. “This is what we do, Roy. It’s my turn to hold your hand until you’re ready to let go, okay?”

            He squeezed his blinded eyes closed and kissed her hungrily. Even though he couldn’t see her, he’d committed to memory the map of her body long ago.


	20. Chapter 20

            Headmaster King Bradley stared into his coffee mug. He hated coffee but detested the tea his secretary made for him even more. He kept telling himself that he’d retire and leave all this nonsense behind him. Yet every September, he returned to the ivy covered brick building as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Nothing made him feel older and closer to the end of his career than the employment of a former student. Even though Riza Hawkeye had graduated an entire year early from her degree program, he still felt his age climbing to a peak.

            He hadn’t hesitated to offer Miss Hawkeye a position in the slightest. Her college transcript had been impeccable, and during her internship student teaching, she’d been well liked. No, she wasn’t the same type of brilliance her father had been, but she commanded a respectability that Bradley wished more young women her age would emulate.

            Of course, there was the matter of her continued association with Roy Mustang. Bradley didn’t know exactly how to feel about that situation. By all accounts, the man had earned his state certification with an impressive knowledge of his specialty. The fact that Mustang declined his commission when civilian alchemy was legalized disappointed him, but he wasn't surprised. As a boy, Roy had always been a bit of a free spirit and not entirely suited to the life of a soldier. The mess with Frank Archer disgusted him. A man like that shouldn’t have simply been expelled but locked away, in his opinion. It was no wonder Berthold Hawkeye had refused his company all those years ago.

            Bradley felt it a major loss to the alchemic might of Amestris when Mustang had been blinded. Supposedly, he now tutored the children of Central City in basic alchemy from the home he shared with Hawkeye’s daughter. _Backyard alchemy_ , indeed. A waste of a valuable mind. He’d never seen Mustang in his hallways, and for that, Bradley was grateful. He had nothing to say to the boy who used to pick fights in the library and wear his shirt half untucked, nor the man who’d walked away from a prestigious title like Flame Alchemist to instruct brats in his home office. Nevermind the details.

            His wife usually smiled knowingly when he complained of such things at home. _Let me guess, King, youth is wasted on the young?_ She knew him well enough, he supposed. The gentle way she handled their private life made him wish every year was his last at the academy, but still, he had a hard time letting go. Perhaps, one day, his aging body would make that decision for him. If he could stay in the headmaster position long enough to prevent Gordon Grumman from taking the helm, he could say he’d been a success.

* * *

 

            Roy would say that one of the most thrilling moments of his life was the day he woke up and opened his eyes to a fuzzy glow. It had been nearly half a year of total darkness until the morning rays of autumn sunlight greeted him from the window. He’d sat in bed, blinking at the sudden change as Hayate circled and pawed at him, sensing his excitement. Even though the light was filtered by the curtains, it stung his eyes. Later that afternoon, Doctor Elric explained that he’d be sensitive to brightness for a while and recommended sunglasses for outdoor use until the full extent of his returning visual acuity could be determined. When Riza returned home from work that evening, she’d been upset that he hadn’t called her right away with the news but understood his immediate need to report to his doctor.

            It took a full month for Roy to make the claim that he could actually _see_. Doctor Elric warned him that his eyesight would probably never be what it was prior to the explosion and prescribed him glasses for reading and driving. Roy wasn’t as concerned with having 20/20 vision as he was with re-seeing everything he’d missed, even if things weren’t completely clear. Watching Riza as she performed even the most mundane of tasks became a favorite hobby. Most of the time, she didn’t mind, but when he shadowed her too closely, an annoyed glance told him to back off. Even her exasperation delighted him.

            The halls of Central Amestris Academy hadn’t changed much in the five years since he’d last strode them. Familiar doorways and display cases brought a wistful smile to his lips. Without really thinking about it, Roy avoided the front hall where the administrative offices were located. Even after the passing of time, he still had no desire to inadvertently bump into Headmaster Bradley, and so far, he’d been successful. Riza’s classroom was located in the west wing of the building, and he knew she preferred it because the sun had a tendency to blind students and teachers unfortunate enough to have morning classes in the east wing. Doctor Hawkeye had often complained of the glare on his glasses and the ill-placed windows.

            At this hour, Roy knew most of the students would have gone home already, and Riza would be close to packing up anything she planned on bringing home for the evening. It was a bit of a surprise when he heard her voice mingling with another as he approached her door.

            “...and I’m sorry for bugging you so late today, Miss Hawkeye, but Coach Hakuro isn’t the most accommodating when it comes to interfering schedules.”

            Riza chuckled softly. “He never has been, Adelaide. Don’t worry about it.”

            “Thank you _so_ much, Miss Hawkeye. You’re the best teacher here, did you know that?”

            “That can’t possibly be true.”

            Roy leaned against the doorframe of her classroom. “Nah, it’s true. She’s the best.” When the student turned to face him, he winked.

            “And _you’re_ not at _all_ biased, I’m sure,” Riza said dryly as she stuffed a few file folders into her bag.

            Through a bit of a blush, the young girl stared at him. “Oh, my goodness, you’re _him,_ aren’t you? _The_ Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist!”

            Roy laughed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I don’t claim the title anymore, but that’s me. I’m just a backyard tutor now.”

            “It is an absolute honor to meet you, Mister Mustang! I’ve read _all_ your papers, and even though I disagree with some of your thermal theories on flammable diagrams, I think you’re brilliant! I’ve been begging my mother for ages to let me take lessons in alchemy, but I think she’s afraid I’ll burn the house down.”

            He grinned. “Flame alchemy, as well as any form of elemental alchemy, is pretty dangerous and requires a thorough knowledge of the gases involved. Your mother’s concern isn’t completely misplaced. Come talk to me when you’ve taken a few classes in college level chemistry.”

            Riza sighed loudly when the girl opened her mouth to reply. “Oh, don’t puff up his ego any more than it already is, Adelaide. You’ll just make my job at home harder. He’s impossible.”

            “At… _home?_ ” Adelaide glanced between her teacher and Roy. Her cheeks reddened further as she inched past him into the hallway. “Miss Hawkeye, you’re a lucky lady!” she called before taking off towards the exit.

            Roy stepped into the classroom finally and leaned against Riza’s desk. “I’m not _that_ impossible.”

            “Not all the time, no.” She smiled and kissed his cheek. He watched as she zipped her bag closed and switched off the classroom lights. “Ready to go? It’s been a long day.”

            “I serve at your pleasure, my lady.” He offered her his hand, and she locked the door behind them. “I parked on the side of the building.”

            “I can’t wait until my own car is fixed. It may be time for a new one.” She sighed and leaned into him. “Why on earth would you park on the far side of everything?”

            “You know why.”

            Riza snickered. “You aren’t a teenager anymore, Roy. You don’t need to avoid him the way you do.”

            “I can’t stand his glare, Riza. It makes my skin crawl. Call it a habit. By the way,” he turned his head and glanced down at her backside, “have I mentioned how much I like these skirts you wear to work? When you keep your hair up like that, it’s like I get to take home the hot teacher.”

            “Maybe I should be punishing you for the way you sexualize a respected educator.”

            Roy clapped his hand over his heart. “Oh, please do, Riza. I deserve it.”

            “It’s not really a punishment if you enjoy it, Roy.” She smiled as he held the door open for her and walked to the passenger side of the car. “Take me home, and we can discuss this more thoroughly.”

            “You are nothing if not thorough, Miss Hawkeye.”

            Roy pulled Riza against his naked chest and kissed her shoulder. She smiled up at him and reached back to run her fingers through his hair. The feel of her nails on his scalp never ceased to be amazing. She laughed. “You’re such a cat, Roy.”

            “I can’t help it. It’s been my weakness for a while, and you should be used to it by now.”

            Riza turned around and straddled his lap. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead and both eyelids before smiling. “Yes.”

            Roy quirked an eyebrow. “Yes, what?”

            “Yes, I’ll marry you if the proposal is still good.” She bit her lip lightly. “Has it been too long?”

            “It never had an expiration date. We could go down to the courthouse tomorrow, and I’d be ecstatic.” He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You make me unbelievably happy, and I don’t want anyone else.”

            “I can’t have my female students thinking you’re available.”

            He laughed loudly and leaned over to the bedside table, keeping one steadying hand on her hip. Roy slid the drawer open and pulled out a box. “I bought this a while ago, and I’ve always been glad I didn’t have it on me when Archer tried to blow me up.”

            Riza took the box from him and opened it. “You sure were confident I’d say yes.”

            “I knew you’d come around eventually,” he said with a smile. Roy plucked the ring from the box and slid it on her finger.

            “It even fits perfectly. How did you finagle that?”

            Roy tried to manage an affronted look. “We’ve been best friends since age nine; if I couldn’t get this one thing right, it would be shameful.”

            Riza wrapped her arms around his neck and settled against him. “You’ve gotten a lot of stuff right, Roy.”

            “I think your grandfather and my aunt will be happy.”

            She laughed and pressed her face into his neck. “They won’t be truly happy until we produce a pack of children. I hope your aunt doesn’t think I don’t know why she kept all that kiddie furniture of yours in her spare rooms.”

            “Yeah, her hint dropping isn’t subtle at _all_.”

            “So kids, then?” She kissed his shoulder.

            He smiled down at her as affection flooded his heart. “Yeah, kids.”

            Riza sat up and grinned. “You better get busy and knock me up, stud. I’m ready.”

            “Did you… just make a _horse_ joke?”

            She, apparently, couldn’t contain her laughter.

            “Exactly how long have you been waiting to say that?”

            “Long enough, Mustang.”

            Roy flipped her over underneath him and got to work.

            When they married six months later in the summer, Roy overheard Mathilda Grumman noting that the empire waist cut of Riza’s gown wasn’t fooling anyone, and that the proper thing to do would’ve been to wait until they’d been married a respectable amount of time. He nearly choked on his champagne when Gordon actually spoke up and told her to mind her own damn business _for once._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we've come to the end. Thanks for not bailing on me! I appreciate everyone who's taken the time to leave me a comment, and kudos. I appreciate them all <3


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